


hope will return

by wearethewitches



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Adopted Children, Adoption, Aesthetics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Asexuality Spectrum, Crying, F/F, F/M, Fake Character Death, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Gen, Henry Mills Has Two Mothers, Identity Reveal, Kileficent, Life Debt, M/M, Magic, Magical Accidents, Magical Pregnancy, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Neverland (Once Upon a Time), Open Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Resurrection, Self-Harm, Sharing a Bed, Time Travel, Time Travelling Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 72,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: When Lucy Mills, daughter of the Saviour and the Evil Queen, accidentally travels back in time to the time of her brother's kidnapping to Neverland, she must find a way to get home - all, without accidentally revealing spoilers from the future, which could erase everything she's ever known.or, a swanqueen magic baby makes a pit-stop in the past and changes her parents' lives for the better.[longer, more cohesive version of: pattern, magic, boom]





	1. Chapter 1

“What do you even need them for?”

“I _told_ you, Lucy, I have to find out if it’s true – if my sister really did leave of her own volition,” Gideon says in a quiet hiss, glaring lightly. Lucy glares right back at him, crossing her arms, the beans tucked tightly in her hand.

“Cody left a letter, I know she did, I _read_ it,” Lucy says, before shaking her head. “She wouldn’t believe you, if you said you were from the future. Making time beans weren’t even an idea back then-”

Gideon reaches for her sharply, grasping her arm and shaking her. Lucy unfolds her arms only slightly because of Gideon’s reaction, hauling back her spare arm to punch him in the face. To be perfectly honest, it isn’t her best punch – but to be perfectly fair, she doesn’t usually get in fist-fights.

Gideon grunts, leaning back and up, her small height versus his tall giving Lucy an advantage as she twists out of his grip, rushing to get away. Unfortunately, Gideon reacts quickly, bounding after her. Lucy gets to the door of her grandfather’s shop before he grabs her again, jolting her and holding her in place.

“Get off, leave me alone!” Lucy shouts. “I should have never stolen them for you, you dick, let go of me-”

“Not until you give me the beans!” Gideon grunts again as she kicks him, hands and elbows flying back. In reaction to her sudden flurry, Gideon flings her back, to the side and Lucy can’t balance in her heels, tottering and crashing to the ground – one of the beans flying out of her hand to hit the shop floor in front of her.

Without even thinking, Lucy wishes she could be with her parents before forcibly cutting the thought off as the bean sinks into a golden-red portal, swearing.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-”

Gideon behind her stumbles back, into a cabinet. “What did you do?”

In front of her the portal grows and abruptly, Lucy panics, scrambling to get away from it, but her foot snags on a cabinet and her hands fall forwards as the floor falls away. She tumbles through the portal, head-first, with not even enough time to call out to Gideon for help.

Lucy has been through a time portal, fortunately and she knows to right herself in preparation for it spitting her out – however, in retrospect, that was probably the least important thing to focus on, as the directionless portal calls on its last command.

_I wish I was with my moms._

When Lucy is flung out of the portal, it’s to land on a leather-clad body, their heads slamming against each other’s. There are a few sounds of surprise from around them as Lucy gets her bearings, finding a rough wood floor and a shoulder, pushing up using them as leverage without regret.

Focusing on the person, Lucy then, of course, regrets using them as leverage.

“Granddad,” she blurts out, eyes widening at the sight of Rumplestiltskin’s long hair. “Oh my god, how far back am I?” Getting off of him, she goes for his hands, helping him up, inwardly thinking _abort, abort_ when she sees the rattling cane on the ground. Lucy reaches for it to give to him, but when she stands straight again, she finds herself looking at two familiar faces.

“…oh no,” Lucy murmurs as she takes in Killian’s pirate coat, finding herself wondering how heavy it must be, with all the leather.

“Who the hell are you?” Regina questions at his side, looking her up and down as Lucy does the same, noticing how _young_ she is.

“And how did you get here?” Killian questions, bringing out a sword. “That was suspiciously good aim, sweetheart.”

Lucy doesn’t know how to answer either of their questions, knowing this situation is a cock-up of epic proportions. However, thankfully, something new captures her attention.

“Why are you wearing eyeliner?” she asks in return, peering at him in disbelief. “This must be _seriously_ early days…”

“Name, now, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin snaps. Lucy looks back at him, twisting enough to catch sight of the last three figures in view.

“Holy heck, your hair is so short,” she stares at Snow, slightly horrified. A moment later, the confused expression on Snow’s face lifts, to be replaced by a worried, wondering one as she lifts a hand to her head, the other locked in David’s grasp.

“It’s been like that for years,” Emma says, gripping the side of the deck – because they’re on the _Jolly Roger_ , of course they are. “Who are you and how the hell did you get here?”

“We won’t ask again,” Rumplestiltskin says in his threatening voice. Lucy swallows, eyes flickering back and forth between each group of people, before she catches sight of a familiar green bean teetering on the edge of the deck.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-” Lucy lunges for it, snatching it up before it can fall into the sea. Clutching it in one fist and her grandfather’s cane in the other, Lucy shuts her eyes.

_What the fuck am I going to do?_

“Was that a bean?” Snow questions.

“Aye,” Rumplestiltskin confirms, before hauling Lucy up by her jacket collar, causing her to yelp. “Speak, welp.”

“I’m not a welp,” she mumbles, wincing as her hair catches in his hand. “Can you not?”

“Can you tell us your name?” he questions in a faux-sweet voice, smiling placidly.

“I can’t,” Lucy argues, “I shouldn’t be here – and for future reference, it was Gideon’s fault and not mine!”

“So it was an accident that you turned up in Neverland mere moments before I was about to depart?” Rumplestiltskin questions.

“…Neverland.” Lucy stares at him. “I’ve heard this story from Henry.”

“How do you know Henry?” Emma asks, desperation in her voice. Lucy glances at the blonde, wincing and internally cursing herself.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Rumplestiltskin asks.

“…both?” Lucy replies, grimacing before trying to wiggle out of his grip – but as per usual, it’s tight and unyielding.

“Why did you call me ‘Granddad’?” he then asks. Lucy cringes heavily. _No, no, no, no, no. Elphie’s going to kill me, she’s absolutely, unequivocally going to **murder** me – if she still exists, after this, at least._ “I’ve only got one grandchild and he isn’t here, right now.”

“I’m not going to be born for a little while, yet,” Lucy uncomfortably watches his expressions shift into his _I’m working it out_ face. “I’m from the future and I need to get back, before I change things irreparably.”

“With what, that bean? Bean’s do realms, not time, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin says, but his voice is slightly distant.

“Not yet,” Lucy says, before his grip suddenly tightens and he goes stiff. The magic around them shifts, suddenly and because of her closeness, Lucy can _feel_ it run through him. She meets his eyes, able to see a strange, rushing reflection.

“Your name is Emma,” he pronounces, once it finishes.

“What?” the actual Emma questions, before Lucy shakes her head, vaguely distressed that her grandfather had just used his Sight to see the future.

“No. No. No-one _actually_ calls me Emma,” she clutches the cane tightly, intimately aware of the precious, fragile time bean in her hand. Looking at her clothes, double-checking she has a zipper-pocket in her dress, she puts it inside, extra-careful of potential holes before zipping it up, safe.

“What do they call you then?” Killian questions. “And what the hell do you mean, you’re from the future?”

“…Lucy,” she admits after a long moment. “My cousin’s kinda clever. She made magic beans that let you travel through time in her basement. Uh, I might have taken some for my uncle.”

Looking around, Lucy has the feeling they don’t quite believe her. Eventually, after a long silence, Rumplestiltskin lets go of her, stepping back – refusing the offered cane as he looks to Emma.

“You deal with this while I go after Pan,” he says, before disappearing. Lucy swallows, biting the inside of her mouth before gently putting the cane on the large block in front of the ship wheel.

“I’ll just…go, if you don’t mind,” Lucy waves awkwardly, reaching for her time bean again, taking it out of her pocket. _I need a clear space – I can’t have them following me,_ she thinks, going down the stairs and attempting to get past Snow and David.

 _Attempting_ is the important part of that sentence.

Without so much as a by-your-leave, David grabs her arm, holding her in place while Snow snatches the bean out of her very fingertips.

“Hey! Give that back!” Lucy kicks David’s shin, but he doesn’t let go, unlike how Gideon did.

“Not until you tell us the truth,” Snow proclaims. “Who are you really? Why would you lie about being from the future?”

“I’m not lying!” Lucy reaches for the bean, but Snow steps away from them, David still holding her back, grip shifting into a more law enforcement-like hold. Arms becoming trapped behind her back, Lucy panics. “I can prove it! I can prove I’m from the future!”

“How?” Snow demands.

“You- you-” Lucy struggles to give her own proof, thinking about Elphie’s rules and the space-time continuum. What if she told them about Leo and then he never came into existence? Why would they even believe her?

Slowly, Lucy stops struggling, swallowing painfully, eyes locked on the bean. “I can’t. I can’t tell you anything. I’m from the future. I haven’t even been conceived yet, let alone born. I could rewrite existence, unmake myself.”

David snorts and it _hurts_ not to be believed. “Hook, do you have somewhere you put prisoners?”

“Aye,” he says and Lucy feels her eyes burning, but refuses to cry as the two men bring her down under the deck to the brig. After locking her inside, Killian smiles charmingly, winking. “Don’t worry love, I won’t forget about you.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Lucy tries not to feel nauseous at his flirting, looking away from him, arms crossing as she stands in the _cage_ beneath the cabins. When he leaves, David at his tail, she puts her hands over her face, swearing again.

“What the _hell_ am I going to do?”

* * *

Regina eyes the girl from afar, wondering if she’s uncomfortable as she sits on what looks to be a dirty, sticky bench inside the brig.

Hook had said it would take some time for them to sail around Neverland – a few hours, at least – and dismissed them all to roam his ship, with the exception of his office slash bedroom, at the stern of the ship.

Not wanting to spend any more time with the Charmings or Emma than she already had – and wanting to focus on something other than Henry being missing – Regina decided their resident mystery could occupy her time. In the shadow of the hull, beside the ladder leading up through a trapdoor, the girls back to her, Regina already has several things parsed about her.

The girl comes from a world without magic. Her leather jacket – blue with white accents, somehow strangely familiar in its intensity – is modern, clearly and so is her dress. It’s knee-length, black with bright floral print and not quite something Regina could pull off, with how young a wearer it seems made for. Her blue heels, however, Regina recognises.

They’re hers, after all.

Obviously, that makes her a thief, as well. She hasn’t just bought the same pair, either – they are definitely Regina’s. The right shoe even has a dent in the side of it, from the time Regina accidentally slammed it in her closet door.

 _Lucy_ , Regina thinks, wondering if it’s a pseudonym. As she wonders, Lucy shifts, standing and walking to the other side of her cage, turning and freezing at the sight of Regina.

“…hi,” she greets nervously.

“Do you know who I am?” Regina questions smoothly, stepping forwards into the light.

“Of course,” Lucy replies immediately, without a hint of hesitation.

“From Storybrooke, I’ll assume,” she replies.

“Sometimes,” Lucy fidgets, crossing her arms over herself protectively. “I was born in the Enchanted Forest, though.”

“Oh?” Regina raises her eyebrow.

“Yeah, you snap about it whenever Mom complains a-” Lucy stops mid-sentence, eyes widening. For a moment, Regina’s caught off-guard, before thinking, _she’s an amazing actress._ “I shouldn’t be talking.”

“Indeed. The lack of lies would be appreciated.”

Lucy flinches, looking genuinely hurt before she smooths out her face. “That’s fine. Talk how you like. I know that you’re not the Regina I know and I don’t care about what you say.”

“Funny,” Regina tilts her head. “You’re still keeping up your story.”

“Because it’s true,” Lucy says, just as Regina remembers where she’s seen that jacket before.

“…my, you are a thief, aren’t you,” she says, watching the confusion appear on her tanned face, hazel eyes squinting slightly. “The jacket. That’s Emma’s – and those are my shoes.”

Lucy glances down, “You said I could borrow them whenever I liked.”

“They’re my favourite pair of shoes, so I very much doubt that.”

“You get a new favourite,” Lucy grumbles.

“Why heels, then? Don’t teenagers in the future have hover-shoes?” Regina jokes.

“I’m nineteen, I’m not a teenager,” Lucy states calmly, with the tiniest hint of passion – most likely meaning it’s an old argument. “And I wear heels because I wear heels. It’s been my thing since I was fifteen.”

“Mmmm,” Regina hums in reply.

They watch each other for a short while. _She’s pretty,_ Regina thinks, _though the make-up is a little over-done. It suits her._

“So, does Neal have another illegitimate child, then?” she asks, when she remembers the young woman calling Rumplestiltskin her grandfather.

However, Lucy immediately starts laughing, grinning. “Not Neal, no.”

Regina raises an eyebrow. “Rumplestiltskin has a child he doesn’t know about?” _Is Belle pregnant? Will she be?_ For a moment, she imagines the Dark One and Belle having a child, before catching up with herself. _Are you seriously considering she’s actually from the future?_

“Oh, he’s still angry he didn’t find out after all the years that passed,” Lucy says, shaking her head. “Apparently, there was a cringe-worthy moment when someone posing as her during a crisis tried to make out with him.”

“Really?” Regina can’t help but chuckle at the description. “What did he do?”

“He’s still traumatised and they beat the bad guy,” Lucy says, before her expression shifts into one of strange contemplation. “Well, sort of. Is it really beating them if they got converted to the good side?”

Regina instantly stills, before her hackles go up. She doesn’t answer her, deciding it was a bad idea to see her at all, turning and leaving. Climbing up, however, she immediately bumps into Emma.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” Emma murmurs, glancing at the open trap. “How’s the girl?”

“Insane,” Regina replies quickly, feeling on edge. _Is it really beating them if they got converted to the good side?_ She thinks of the Charmings and Emma, of this very situation where she’s relegated to the backseat on a quest to save her own son and of this- this _journey_ she’s gone through, trying to be _good_ for Henry.

“Are you alright?” Emma frowns and Regina must be acting strangely, if the Saviour is noticing and actually saying something.

“No,” Regina replies. “I’m worried about Henry and that girl just put me on edge. However, if she really is from the future, we have something to worry about in the form of Rumplestiltskin having a second child that he doesn’t know about.”

Emma’s face says it all – all wide-eyed and a little taken-aback. “Right…”

Regina tilts her head in unsaid agreement that Rumplestiltskin having another child is something to be wary of – the Dark One had her cast the Dark Curse, trying to reunite with Baelfire. _He loves his son_ , Regina thinks, _he loves his grandson. Family is important to him._

“Do you think she’d be up to talk?” Emma eventually asks. “I had a question.”

“If it’s about your jacket, don’t bother,” Regina replies. “I asked her about my shoes and she said that in the future, I let her borrow them.”

“Your shoes?” Emma questions.

“Yes,” Regina says flatly. “My shoes. She’s wearing them.”

“Right…so she’s either nicked our stuff or she’s from the future. Great. Which one is better?”

Regina purses her lips. “Quite honestly, if this ‘Lucy’ isn’t from this time, then there’s less unknown. We just send her back. If she’s not…then we’re working with someone who has created an elaborate story and has the skill-set to back it up, if nothing else.”

“What do you think she wants?” Emma questions.

“ _I can hear you, you know,_ ” said girl replies, calling out to them. “ _If I don’t go home soon on my own, the sooner either my cousin discovers the missing beans or my uncle loses his nerve and goes running to his father._ ”

“Would this father be Rumplestiltskin? Because if so, you’ve added another child of his to the list,” Regina replies, glancing back at the doorway.

“ _Granddad has four kids in total, Mom._ ”

Regina’s eyes widen.

“Woah, what?” Emma questions, before moving past her to go see their prisoner down the ladder, Regina following after a second’s hesitation.

In the small brig, Lucy seems to have realised what she said, expression twisted into one of horror.

“Why did you call Regina ‘mom’?” Emma interrogates. Lucy takes a step back, standing against the cell bars. “Why did you choose _time travel_ as your story?”

“It’s not a story,” Lucy says weakly.

“According to you and Gold, your name is Emma, not Lucy – so what,” Emma points out, sounding sarcastic, “you’re Emma Mills?”

“On paper,” Lucy replies weakly. “It’s kinda weird.”

“I bet it’s weird. Why did you think up such weird shit, kid? Who are you really?”

“My name is Lucy,” Lucy insists, before Regina’s eyes are drawn to her hands, twitching with suddenly _very_ large amounts of magic. She clamps them around her own wrists, squeezing tightly. “I just want to go home.”

“Yeah, well I just want my son back,” Emma says, causing a frown to form on Lucy’s brow.

“Your son? But…” she looks between Regina and Emma, mouth dropping as she looks between them, disbelieving. “No. Oh my god, this is _before._ Before everything, before- _before_ …holy _shit!_ ” Lucy surges forwards to the other side of the cage, half-leaning on the bench, drinking them in. “You don’t like each other! Henry isn’t _your son_ yet! Your _shared_ son! But- but it’s coming so soon!”

“What is?” Regina questions, before there’s a sudden lurching of the ship.

“What was that?” Emma questions, the two women sharing a look before going for the trapdoor, leaving the girl behind in her cell as they head for the surface.


	2. Chapter 2

The ship rocks and swings. Lucy grips the bars of her cage, trying to stay upright. Bangs come from all sides and she can hear shouting above – but Lucy knows from sailing lessons that the _Jolly Roger_ is made up of two floors and a deck. Right now, she’s in the lowest floor, surrounded by barrels of freshwater.

Water flicks up against her ankle and Lucy thinks for a moment that those barrels have been knocked loose, but then it happens again, before four separate torrents of water explode through the side of the ship from cracks, a high-pitched screeching becoming audible.

“Help!” Lucy shouts to be heard as the room quickly begins taking on water. “ _Help!_ ” Settled on a platform of sorts, the water doesn’t come up over her ankles, but Lucy can see it rising on either side of the cell in the dip where the hull comes together in the middle. The steady stream scares her and she feels the bars grow warm under her grip, static spiking her wrists and fingers.

“No, no, not right now, please,” Lucy pleads. _Now is **not** the moment for my magic to act up._

For something like five minutes, the attack – because is has to be an attack, the mermaid attack that Henry wrote about in his copy of _Once Upon a Time_ – goes on and on, until presumably, her mother throws various fireballs to scare the mermaids off. Unfortunately for Lucy, they’re still taking on water and more cracks have appeared – some of which turning into geysers.

Water actually at her ankles now, Lucy becomes terrified, wondering if she’s changed something – that if by increasing the amount of people in the ship, she’s increased the number of mermaids that have appeared. _Is the Jolly Roger going to sink? Am I going to die here?_

Panicking, Lucy shouts for help over and over, but no-one hears her. Then the horn blows and Lucy knows that the water-damage is going to get worse as the storm rages.

“Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin!” she calls, putting all her magic into the call, all her desperation and fear.

A storm begins – thunder booming and lightning cracking. Lucy struggles to stay upright and attached to the bars, the water level creeping up past her feet, even despite her heels. Her arm aches where she once broke it – _fuck you Gideon, you fuck things up for me when you aren’t even here_ – and she keeps on swaying.

“No, no, no, no-” she falls over eventually, splashing in the water there, the angle of the floor suddenly rising. Lucy tumbles backwards and hits the bars, inwardly rejoicing that the nailed-down bench won’t be following her.

“What the devil have you called me for?” her grandfather’s familiar angry bluster follows, before she sees him hanging to the side of the cage.

“Granddad, please, get me out of here,” she begs, struggling to stand.

“I’ve no understanding of how I’m your grandfather, girl,” he says, gritting his teeth. “What do you have to trade me?”

“Trade?” Lucy breathes heavily and instead inhales some water, coughing violently. “What do you want?”

“Tell me about the future. Information. Does Bae have another child out there – you, somewhere out in the land without magic?”

“No, no, he’s not my father!” Lucy shakes her head, managing to get up as they settle out – only to be practically slammed the other way as they seemingly go vertical to vertical. A small wave of water slams into her, pushing her against the bars of the cage.

“Then how are you my granddaughter?”

“Are you thick?” Lucy questions.

“Would you like me to leave you here in this god-forsaken ship?” Rumplestiltskin snaps, causing Lucy to panic.

“Cora lied! Cora lied about Prince Henry being my mother’s father!”

“She what?” Rumplestiltskin looks at her, haggard. “Regina-”

“-is my mother, from the future and your daughter, she always has been!” Lucy yells, before the familiar feeling of heel snapping under her snatches her attention. “Oh _no!_ ”

“What is it?”

“I broke my shoe!”

Rumplestiltskin looks at her with a genuine _are you fucking with me_ face, before he appears inside the cell with her, arm wrapping around her waist.

“Brace yourself!” he snaps, before they’re on the deck. Lucy reaches over, grabbing a handy rope as rain lashes against her. The sound of shouting catches her attention and to her shock, Regina and Snow are having a fist-fight right in front of them.

“Pull yourself together!” Rumplestiltskin shouts, before Lucy notices David and Killian fighting on the upper deck.

“You need to listen to me!” Lucy hears Emma shouting and – knowing what’s about to happen – twists her head around to see the blonde diving off the side of the boat.

“No!” she shouts.

“Emma!” David calls at the same time, a flurry of cries calling out from Snow before a pulley rope snaps, hitting the water.

 _Hitting my mom,_ Lucy thinks, before breaking out of her grandfather’s hold, rushing to the side of the ship haphazardly, kicking off her heels and dropping her jacket on the deck as everyone gathers at the side. Climbing up, she summons the end of a nearby cord of rope before diving in.

Hitting the water, Lucy reaches out with her magic, finding her mothers familiar presence and swimming in that direction without looking, letting her eyes adjust to the water slowly rather than all at once.

Arms burning, it feels like swimming through lead, this deep. Her mother floats in the water, eyes shut. _Don’t you drown on me, don’t, please,_ Lucy thinks as she grabs her, hauling them upwards. When they reach the surface, she tries to remember her life-saving course, which seems all too far away.

Using her magic, Lucy focuses on tying the rope around Emma, using her remaining limbs to keep her mother afloat, kicking towards the ship. She thinks of Roni and what she would do – which would have likely involved telling Elphie that Gideon wanted her to steal the time beans in the first place.

“Breathe, mom, please,” she says to her, pulling her arms in sharply a couple of times.

“Emma!”

“We’ve got the rope! Pull!” Killian shouts and honestly, if he wasn’t weirdly maternal to her uncle, Lucy could kiss him. In her arms, Emma starts to be dragged faster towards the _Jolly Roger_ and Lucy lets her, holding onto both her and the rope to keep her upright.

As it happens, just before they hit the side of the boat, her compressions convince Emma to upchuck whatever is in her lungs and as she goes up the side, she can keep her head well enough. However, while, Emma goes up and Lucy is stuck in the water.

“Here.” Rumplestiltskin throws another rope over as David pulls Emma over the side, disappearing from view. Lucy grabs it, fingers numb, but managing to somehow scale the side of the boat with his help, grateful for the warm jacket he puts around her shoulders as soon as she’s upright.

Pulling his coat around her – and wondering if he raided Killian’s wardrobe, at seeing the black, pirate-y shirt left underneath – Lucy leans into his side, internally thanking whoever let him see the future that they let him see her.

Above, the clouds clear enough so they can see the moon.

“I told you,” Emma says, before looking to Lucy. “You saved me.”

Lucy gives a small grimace. “You shouldn’t have needed saving. You’re welcome, though.”

“It’s kind of a big deal,” Emma replies, before her eyes flicker sideways to Rumplestiltskin. “I thought you were gone.”

“The young lady made a deal with me, to save herself from drowning in that cell.”

“Dammit! I knew there was water coming in,” Killian curses, before disappearing down into the hold. “ _A little help!_ ”

“Go help,” Emma says to David, sitting up. “I’m good.”

David quickly disappears and Rumplestiltskin turns to Lucy. “If you were telling the truth, then our deal is done. If you weren’t, expect me to call in a favour.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Lucy denies, before he disappears, leaving her in his jacket.

“What did you tell him?” Regina questions.

Lucy glances at her, seeing her impeccable face and reminding herself that _yes, that is magic keeping her together in the face of a storm_ and _yes, I’ve got the same spell on._ It would have been a nightmare if her makeup came off while diving for Emma.

_It’s so strange to think that my moms don’t like each other right now, let alone are having Roni and I in the next year._

“A secret of Cora’s,” she says, fully aware of Emma’s lie detector. Regina clenches her jaw.

“What secret?”

“A secret,” Lucy says, feeling childish. Stepping forwards, she tugs at her own jacket on the deck, giving her shoes up for a lost cause – the broken heel isn’t there, hanging on by a thread, so she can’t repair the broken one. Wiggling her toes a little, the strain of wearing heels gone, Lucy picks them up and throws them overboard.

“What did you do that for?” Regina predictably demands.

“Snapped the heel while in the brig,” Lucy shrugs, wondering what to do with her jacket seeing as she’s half-wearing her grandfathers. As if hearing her, it disappears and Lucy quickly puts her own back on, noticing the difference in temperature immediately.

* * *

“Are there changes of clothes or like, towels, do you think?” Emma asks after Lucy answers Regina’s questions.

“I know where they are,” Lucy says, to Emma’s surprise. “I think, at least.”

“Cool,” Emma says, getting up off the deck.

“I’ll just…go help the others,” Regina mutters, the three of them making their way down below, Regina leaving them quickly. Emma watches Lucy as she leads her to near Hook’s quarters, opening a latch cupboard and pulling out some thin blankets that supposedly are meant to be a towel-substitute.

“Still saying you’re from the future?” Emma questions her as they dry off there, in the corridor. She can hear Hook yelling, below her feet and for a moment thanks the fact that she almost drowned, so she gets out of emergency repair-work.

“I’m born in this year,” Lucy replies. It takes Emma a moment to realise _why_ that is a bomb of information.

“ _What?_ ” Emma stares at her. “Regina’s _pregnant?_ ”

“Not yet. Or maybe she is. She was never quite sure,” Lucy says, sighing and leaning against the wall as if she’d given up. “I’m not sure if you’ve been told this before at this time, but in the Enchanted Forest, it wasn’t uncommon for True Loves to have children together – even if they weren’t a man and a woman.”

“…woah, wait, you mean you’re born from True Love?” Emma questions, avoiding the impossible idea that same-sex couple could have children together.

“Between two True Loves,” Lucy corrects. “So are both my siblings and no, I don’t mean Henry when I refer to either of them. True Love is magic, by the way.”

“I know that,” Emma replies, slightly weirded out. The problem with all this, is that she can’t hear her lie detector going off. Everything coming out of Lucy’s mouth is the truth – to her, at least. “Regina’s going to have kids. Plural, kids.” It’s a weird thought. Not a _bad_ thought…but, definitely weird.

Lucy falls silent after that, surprising Emma by stripping off her dress briefly to dry, putting on her jacket inbetween drying her torso and squeezing her dress in the towel, for some form of modesty, Emma supposes.

Soon, though, both of them are vaguely dry and a little warmer. Those doing the emergency repairs all head up from the bottom of the boat and they make a game-plan.

“We need to land,” Hook says. “Or we’re sunk.”

That is said and agreed on easily. As Hook steers them towards Neverland, Regina gives them both a short rundown of what happened.

“We patched up some holes. I banished some of the water out and spelled the water-pump to keep going while we’re away.”

“Good,” Emma nods, before Mary-Margaret clears her throat.

“Lucy, I’d like to thank you for helping Emma.”

“It was nothing,” Lucy shakes her head. “Really. Emma’s integral to my future.”

“How?” Emma questions, slightly alarmed. Lucy glances back at her, smirking suddenly.

“You’ll see. Say hi to Roni for me.”

“Who’s Roni?”

“Quiet,” Regina snaps at the girl. “Unless you’re willing to swear an oath on your magic, I refuse to believe you’re from the future.”

“Fine,” Lucy huffs, before stepping forwards and holding out her hand. Regina balks and Emma looks between them, confused.

“What’s happening?”

“A witch vow,” Lucy replies, sounding slightly nervous. “It’s sworn in blood though and I haven’t carried a knife with me since the last time I went to Wonderland.”

“What makes you think _I_ do?” Regina asks. “Have you ever sworn one of these before?”

“Once, when I was twelve,” Lucy replies, voice still slightly shaky. “You refused to teach me how to make a cut in my hand, though.”

Regina’s lips purse and Emma imagines she’s angry, before she moves her hand sharply, a thin cut appearing on Lucy’s palm. She hisses, before Regina does the same, clasping their hands together.

“Magic binds you,” Regina says, before a dark purple glow comes from their hands. Emma watches with unblinking eyes, staring at the exchange with an unparalleled focus.

“I swear on my magic that I am telling the truth when I say I am from the future,” Lucy replies, the purple glow changing to a soft pink. Regina hisses, as if in pain. “Sorry,” Lucy says, before the light dies and they pull their hands apart sharply. Emma notices how Lucy winces herself.

“You’re a light witch,” Regina says, as if disgusted.

“Only right now,” Lucy says, which potentially sounds both ominous and cheery. She snaps her fingers, a small spark of lighting flickering upwards.

“So, what did that do?”

“It means she’s telling the truth when she says she’s from the future and that’s all. Anything else is up for grabs,” Regina explains and Emma looks sharply at the girl who is supposedly Regina’s daughter, born of True Love.

_But who could Regina’s True Love be?_

“So, can I go home _now?_ ” she looks to Mary-Margaret, who Emma remembers has her magic bean.

“You’re really from the future?” Hook cuts in suddenly, calling from the wheel. “You’re really, _truly_ from the future?”

“Yes and I need to get back to it before I change the timeline again,” Lucy says sharply.

“May I ask you a question, love?” Hook says, not waiting for an answer. “Do I get a happy ending?”

Emma watches Lucy’s face as she pauses, looking at him critically before something in her face goes soft.

“Yes, you do. I’ve babysat Liam often enough to know his parents are happy together.”

 _Hook is going to have a kid,_ Emma thinks with wide eyes as the captain himself stares at the woman in shock, looking slightly overwhelmed.

“That’s not to say there aren’t ups and downs – hearts broken and suchlike,” Lucy warns. “So don’t lose hope, unless you’re counting on it being someone on this ship. A little anecdote that younger me didn’t exactly like was you trying to make out with my mother.”

“I what?” Hook looks around, between Emma, Regina and Snow before settling on Emma, to her slight confusion, before looking back to Lucy sharply. “Well…sorry in advance, love.”

“I’ve told you now, so if you still do it – because memory potions are in such short supply here – I’ll know it was on purpose,” Lucy warns.

“…right,” Hook falters, giving an uneasy smile. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“No,” Lucy says flatly, before looking to Mary-Margaret, holding out her hand. “Can I have my time bean back now, please?”

Mary-Margaret purses her lips, before taking the bean out of her pocket, holding it in clear view. Lucy goes to take it, stepping forwards, but Mary-Margaret holds it away from her.

“Answer some questions for us, first.”

“Mary-Margaret, give her the bean,” Emma breathes in deeply. “If- _because_ she’s from the future, she needs to go home. Did you never read or watch any sci-fi stuff?”

“What Mom said – I’ve already told too much, any way,” Lucy says, eyes fixed on the bean, not noticing how Emma looks at her, thoughts of breaking the space-time continuum aborting as she realises what Lucy just said.

“I thought Regina was supposed to be your mother,” Emma says, confused, glancing at the woman herself, who has an equally-as confused expression on her face. Lucy wavers in her concentration, eyes flicking back between Emma and Regina.

 _She’s supposed to be born from True Love,_ Emma recalls, frowning deeply.

“Yes, I thought that was the case as well.”

“…it’s complicated. Like Henry. Uh…yeah, I need to go, right now.” Lucy says, reaching out to take the bean, which Mary-Margaret lets her grab out of her hand. Emma watches her look around, before she goes over to the bow of the ship.

“Wait, you need to explain,” Emma starts, as she moves some rope and crates out of the way – creating a clear space. “Who are you, really?”

“Lucy Mills,” she says. “By the way,” she turns slightly, looking at Regina, “when I’m eight and I break my arm, don’t believe me when I say it was an accident. Gideon was fucking around with his levitation spells and slammed my arm between a rock and a tree. It still hurts, sometimes.”

She rubs her right arm for emphasis, even as Emma remembers a scene from _Back to the Future_ , where Marty asks his parents to be lenient when his younger self burned the rug.

“You didn’t explain why you called Miss Swan your mother,” Regina demands an answer without saying.

“I can’t tell you. It’s not happened yet.” Lucy says in an apologetic tone, before turning to the clear space, throwing the bean onto the deck. Emma expects a portal – for _something_ – but the seconds tick past and nothing happens. The bean remains on the deck, motionless. “What the hell?” Lucy steps forwards, picking it up. “Did I steal a fucking _dud?_ Oh my god, oh my _god_ , how am I going to get home?”

“With difficulty, I’d imagine,” Regina states even as Emma feels a strange tugging in her gut, that tapers out after a moment. “The magic here is strange, different…”

“Imagination, it all works on imagination,” Emma clarifies, remembering what Gold said earlier.

“Well, I imagined that the bean worked and that didn’t help things,” Lucy says, sounding frantic.

“We’re coming up to the island,” Hook says a moment later, before the _Jolly Roger_ flies into a reef, a river in the distance. “These are shallower waters. I’ll anchor down. Get into a row-boat.”

“I can fix the ship, if you give me a little time,” Regina states, before Emma shakes her head.

“No, save your strength. We’re going to need you to help fight Pan. Do what Hook says.”

Regina grumbles, but follows David to where he gets into a rowboat, Mary-Margaret helping out with the ropes and pulleys to lower it down into the water. Emma looks back to Lucy, who stares at the bean in her cupped hands.

Wary of the girl – the girl from the future, the girl who knows them all and calls both Emma and Regina her mothers – Emma puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Kid. I know you want to get home. Someone will come and get you, if the bean really isn’t working.”

“It’s a dud,” Lucy repeats, showing her it. Up close, Emma can see how it sparkles, the bean itself a light green with a blue centre. “It should be green and orange. Every time bean has the potential of a time portal trapped inside of it. I gave up my magic for these.”

“You what?” Emma looks at her in confusion. “But, earlier-”

“Every time a bean is used, the magic returns to me. It’s something that took Elphie time to get right, but she did it. Time portals need the magic of a True Love child to work. Usually, the magic gets used up, but Elphie managed to get the power of the bean itself to power the portal, rather than the magic used to create it.”

“Elphie, like Elphaba?” Emma recognises the name.

“Yeah, actually,” Lucy says, before tucking the bean away in her pocket. “But don’t tell anyone. No-one’s ready for what that means, yet.”

“That, what, people from Oz are in Storybrooke?”

“They aren’t,” Lucy murmurs, catching her eyes. “Yet.”


	3. Chapter 3

Neverland is deceptively devoid of obvious oppression – except Lucy is sensitive to her magic, having gone without it for so many years. She feels it curling around her like a scarf or perhaps a noose, which would be a more apt descriptor, malicious and possessive in nature.

“We don't have to do it this way,” Regina tries. “I can fix the Jolly Roger. My magic _is_ powerful enough. We can execute the pirate's plan.”

“Sneak attack? Let’s not be naive. This is Neverland – Pan has the run of it,” Emma says to her, only slightly appeasing.

Lucy glances between them, clearing her throat lightly. “Does that mean he knows where we are?”

“No, he’s not that powerful,” Killian shakes his head, staking the rowboat into the sand and rocks, David helping him pull it up a little more. “He’s even worse on deep water, which is why I originally wanted us to come up the river. But you’re right. He knows we’re coming. It’s only a matter of when.”

“Right. Pan already knows we’re here,” Emma looks at everyone in their little group. “It’s time we stop running. Gold was right. This land is run on belief. All of us have been too busy being at each other’s throats to be believers. I was as wrong as anyone else. It’s time for all of us to believe – not in magic, but in each other.”

“You want to be _friends?_ ” Regina questions. “After everything that’s happened between all of us?”

“If future-girl is right, we’ll be more than friends this time next year,” Emma glances at Lucy, who immediately makes a _stop_ cutting motion over her throat, eyes widening. _What the hell are you doing, Mom?_ She thinks, horrified. _Are you trying to erase me from existence?_

“Next year?” Regina questions, glancing at her. “What happens next year?”

“Her,” Emma points with the sword Hook had quickly provided her before they left, proclaiming it to be Lucy’s uncle Baelfire. “She’s born in the next year.”

“That’s- that’s _impossible,_ ” Regina shakes her head.

“Stop talking,” Lucy cringes, looking at Emma, before repeating her earlier thoughts from before. “Are you trying to erase me from existence?”

“Not to interrupt, but we have to start moving,” Snow intervenes, before Emma can reply. “We need to save Henry.”

“Yeah,” Lucy agrees, awkwardly traversing the beach with her bare feet. _I should have grabbed a pair of boots or something from the Jolly Roger. Or maybe not. Who knows the last time they were cleaned._ Grimacing at her own thoughts, she goes up to the treeline, pausing half-way there as her grandpa starts complaining.

“You want us to cooperate with villains?” he questions Emma. “We’d be better going off on our own, as a family. We need to do this the right way.”

 _Say what?_ Lucy swiftly turns, staring at David in disbelief.

“They _are_ family,” she interrupts Emma, clenching her fists. They all look at her. “Even Killian, though it’s a stretch.”

“How am I _family_ , love?” the pirate raises his eyebrows.

“Well, Killian, perhaps it’s because you’re weirdly paternal to Uncle Bae,” Lucy says, edging on sarcastic. “But that’s not the point. How can you even say that?” she looks to her grandfather. “Regina is your grandson’s _mother_.”

“Emma’s Henry’s mother, not Regina,” he says and Lucy recoils.

“That’s _horrible._ How can you even _say_ that? I can’t- I just _can’t._ ” Lucy turns, speed-walking to the treeline.

“Wait for us, girl!” Killian yells and she hears the group hurry on after her.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Snow says, but Lucy isn’t listening, rushing through the trees and bush. _I can’t believe Grandpa would say that,_ she thinks, so very upset all of a sudden.

The whole situation catches up with her and she starts to cry. _I’m going to erase myself, everyone, my cousins, sisters, Jasper and-_

Wiping at her eyes, she slows down, stopping to lean against a tree. _I’ve got to stay with the group,_ she thinks. _Maybe this is better. Roni and I were just…mistakes, anyway. Mom and Mama don’t even love each other yet._

Lucy feels cold, all of a sudden and alone. _I want Alex and Mia_. She hears the group behind her, Emma coming up to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Kid, are you alright?”

“Far from it. I just want to go home to my family – the one that doesn’t completely erase my mother from her own narrative,” she snips, glaring at David as he comes into view.

“Kid…” Emma starts, “I don’t know what it’s like in the future, but Regina and I aren’t even friends. We’re- we’re _barely_ co-parents.”

“You should work on that,” Lucy mutters.

“You’re right, we should,” Emma agrees lowly, before letting go of her shoulder. “Are you alright without shoes?”

“I’ll probably be better off than Mom,” Lucy can’t help smiling a little, Regina’s heels barely better than the ones she wore on the _Jolly Roger_. Emma glances over, chuckling as Lucy wipes her eyes, breathing in deeply

“Yeah, you’re right. Come on, then. Hook?”

“To the north,” he points at an odd angle and David takes the lead, using a machete to cut a path as the bush begins properly. Lucy clears her throat before following, Emma leaving her behind to walk with Regina as they start on their journey.

About ten minutes into their trek, her mother speaks. “Thank-you for defending me.”

Lucy risks a glance at her. “Grandpa was being an ass.”

Regina makes a slight face. “Why are all my children Emma’s too?”

“It’ll become clear over time,” Lucy says, before taking a risk and reaching to take her hand. Regina glances down at their clasped hands, Lucy squeezing it tightly. “You’re my mom and I love you very much. Please believe me.”

Her mother is obviously hesitant and Lucy pauses in trekking to hug her reflexively. Regina hugs her back after a few seconds and for a moment, Lucy pretends that it’s _her_ mother, shutting her eyes and burrowing her head in her neck. But her perfume is wrong and she smells like salt water.

When they part, there’s a certain easiness between them afterwards, as they catch up with the others.

Hours pass. The forest thickens and they start going up a slight incline. Lucy thinks it must be getting late – they had been able to see the moon from the ship.

“No, no!” Killian suddenly shouts, lunging forwards to stop David from macheting his way through a bush.

“I can handle a couple of thorns.”

 _Thorns?_ Lucy frowns, suddenly getting the feeling she’s forgotten something about Henry’s story. Coming closer, joining Snow and Emma with Regina in watching them, she listens to Killian explain.

“That’s dreamshade,” he explains, pulling David away. “It’s not the thorns you have to worry about – it’s the poison they inject you with. This plant is the source of the toxins I used on the Dark One.”

“The poison that almost killed Gold?” Emma questions, worried.

 _…oh my god. Grandpa._ Lucy looks to David sharply, the story coming flooding back. _He’s going to get clipped by a dreamshade arrow._

“Indeed. I used a concentrated dose. In its natural form, death would be much slower and far more painful. I suggest we go this way.”

“Yeah, let’s go this way, Grandpa,” Lucy says, slightly frantic, desperate to avoid him being hurt – even if she is angry at his treatment of her mother. _There’s that look again,_ she thinks as the party looks at her oddly for the name.

“We’re going this way, Lucy,” David says, after a long pause, before turning back to the bush, skirting around it carefully. Lucy swallows.

_Time can change. I’ve got to be careful – we all do._

“Don’t let it touch you,” she murmurs to her mothers, being extra cautious as she goes around it.

David calls out once he gets further along and they all go up to the ridge, looking out onto a jungle that seeps with misery. It makes Lucy feel positively ill.

* * *

“Pan’s lair should be just, right…”

“Where?” Regina questions, “All I see is jungle.”

Hook winces. “Aye. The Dark Jungle. It’s, uh…grown so much since I last stepped foot in Neverland.”

Regina huffs. “So this nature hike was for nothing.”

“Hook may have led us astray, but at least we’re in a good position to start combing the jungle.”

“Not exactly,” Hook starts. “The Dark Jungle is the last place you want to set foot. We’ll have to go around it.”

 _Around?_ Regina looks at Hook in murderous disbelief.

“In order to do that, we’re going to need our strength,” he continues. “I suggest we make camp.”

“You want to sleep while my _son_ is out there suffering?” Regina questions, worrying over Henry. _Is he hurt? Is he scared? Does he know we’re coming for him?_

“If we want to live long enough to save the boy, yes.”

Then they make camp and Regina feels a frisson of fear bubble up inside her. _Why are we just sitting around, **not** looking? We need to find him._

At Hook’s askance, Regina summons blankets and canvas tents from the _Jolly Roger_. They make camp, building a fire for warmth. As she sits by it, poking it with a long stick, Lucy sits down beside her.

“Mom?”

Her heart pangs. “Yes, Lucy?”

“We’re going to find him. We’ll find him, then save him from Pan. I promise.”

“How can you promise that?” Regina questions, looking at her. Tiredness spreads across the young woman’s face, shadows under her eyes as she leans on her elbows. “You’re from the future and every second you stay here, you have the potential to change it. What’s to say you won’t mess up our daring rescue or even die? How am I supposed to feel about that, if you truly are my daughter?”

Lucy rubs her eyes. “I’ll go home soon. I’m not going to change what I know…I won’t. I can’t. I have to trust that the timeline will try to correct itself. It always tries. If something drastic happens, then- then I’ll do something, to make it happen again, even if it happens in a different way. A rock becomes a jewellery box.”

“A rock becomes a what?” Regina questions.

Lucy’s lip twitches. “The original creator of time travel will unfortunately leave a mess behind. My other mom will get sucked into it. Literally. Time can be changed.”

“But it shouldn’t be,” Regina argues. Lucy nods, looking at her hands.

“I’m sorry, by the way. I mean, for making you worry.”

“My future self is the one going to be devastated if you get hurt, my dear.” Regina sighs, before twisting towards her. “Let me see you.”

Lucy turns. The concept of this girl being her daughter seems so unrealistic, but she _looks_ like Regina. Their eyes are the same colour, if Regina remembers her own right – and she’s got her chin and tan complexion.

 _Daddy’s complexion,_ Regina thinks. “ _¿Hablas sureño?_ ”

Lucy smiles. “ _Sí, mami._ ”

Regina shivers, not having heard Henry call her that for- it must have been over a year, now. She reaches over with two hands, brushing her hair behind her ear, framing her face. Something bothers her, though.

“Who’s your father?”

“Don’t have one. I just have you and Mom.”

“I mean-”

“I know what you mean,” Lucy interrupts. “I’m not being deliberately obtuse. I was something of an accident.”

“But…” Regina frowns, before snatching her hands back. “No. Magical pregnancies are between True Loves.”

“But it explains something to you, doesn’t it?” Lucy replies, trying and failing to hold back her smile. Regina swallows, but her hands drifts to her stomach.

“I can’t have children.”

It makes sense, then, a little more. The only way for Regina to have a child would be with another woman – it’s not as if she can have her own. That was the hole point in adopting Henry. _But with Emma Swan? Really?_

Lucy reaches over, kissing her cheek. “Don’t give up hope. Just because you can’t doesn’t mean you _won’t_.”

 _Nice choice of words,_ Regina thinks in slight amusement, before Lucy sits back in front of the fire, putting her hands out over the fire.

For a little while, they sit, before Regina realises something.

“Won’t?” she murmurs, frowning. Lucy raises an eyebrow at her. “There’s no cure.”

“Magical infertility potions can be reversed, you know.”

“There’s no magic that powerful,” Regina argues.

Lucy grins, before motioning to Emma. “Are you very sure?”

Regina’s head whips around. Staring at the so-called _Saviour_ , who struggles to put up her tent until Snow helps. _No,_ she thinks, more in disbelief than disregard or defiance.

_I just have you and Mom._

Emma accidentally meets her eyes and Regina flushes, out of character, suddenly remembering that moment when Emma first came to town. She’d opened the door of her room in Granny’s B&B and she hadn’t been wearing jeans.

Emma gives her a funny look and Regina looks away sharply, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling caught off-guard.

“Blonde and brunette,” Lucy whispers at her. “Something out of a story, hmm?”

“She likes the pirate,” Regina mutters.

“They have banter and to my knowledge, they might have made out once. You could change that, if you wanted to,” Lucy nudges her on the arm.

“She’s mourning Neal,” Regina tries to excuse the blonde – but to her surprise, Lucy makes a confused face.

“What? No, he’s not dead yet. He’s not going to die till _well_ after I’m born.”

Regina frowns. “No,” she denies, “Tamara shot him and his dead body fell through a portal, apparently.”

“He’s not dead. Does everyone really think that?” Lucy questions, before standing. “Uncle Neal is not dead. I didn’t come back _that_ early. He’s coming to Neverland right now, if he’s not already here.”

Regina stands as well, but then Emma comes over.

“What are you talking about?”

“Neal’s alive,” Regina murmurs, watching a hurt expression appear on Emma’s face. “Apparently Lucy knows him.”

“I barely remember him, but yeah, I know him. Best uncle on the planet – much less annoying than Leo, at the very least.”

Regina immediately freezes. _Leo,_ she thinks, looking over at where Snow and David are sleeping on a pile of blankets in their tent. _They’re going to have another child and they’re going to name him **Leo**._

“I feel sick,” she mumbles, memories of King Leopold resurfacing – _I thought I was **over** all of this _ – only to be ignored as Emma pushes past her to grab Lucy’s arms.

“What do you mean? How can you have met him? He’s _dead._ ”

“No, he’s really not,” Lucy says and Regina watches as pesky _hope_ appears on Emma’s face. “Pan’s going to capture him at some point before you see each other again, in the Echo Caves.” She shifts, trying to get out of Emma’s grip. “Let go of me.”

“He’s alive,” Emma states, before letting go of her. Regina looks between them, watching as Emma sits down heavily on the tree trunk.

“Yeah, he is. Why is it so important to you?” Lucy questions.

“He’s Henry’s father and I- I _love_ him,” Emma admits, teary. “I still love him, after all this time.”

Lucy at least has the tact not to say anything, but Regina sees her expression – as if she thinks that Emma’s words are scandalous. Luckily, Emma doesn’t and it doesn’t last long, before she hurriedly tries to look nonchalant, failing badly.

 _I don’t understand why Emma would heal me, so I can have Lucy._ It confuses Regina. _Why would she help me?_ Maybe it’s because she’s Lucy’s mother as well – sharing yet another child with the Evil Queen.

“You should sleep,” Regina eventually says, reluctant. Emma glances at her, nodding, looking slightly miserable.

“I can’t get my tent up.”

“Mom’ll help,” Lucy offers her help. Regina raises an eyebrow at her, getting a pseudo-innocent look in return.

“Fine,” she growls not unkindly, before snapping her fingers. Emma’s tent rights itself, right before it starts to rain heavily. Within seconds, her hair starts to weigh down, coat dampening. Regina, having been planning to play guard, grimaces, before Lucy clears her throat.

“I’ll watch the camp, if you like. It was earlier in the day for me, when I arrived here.”

“Right,” Regina says, “and where do you suppose I sleep in this deluge? There are three tents.”

“I think you have equal right to the third tent,” Lucy points out. “You put it up, after all.”

“Uh, if you want to sleep, I’ll stay out here,” Emma volunteers. Regina purses her lips.

“I said _you_ should sleep.”

“You _both_ should sleep,” Lucy pushes. “I don’t mind the rain. I’ve got an affinity for storms, as it happens.”

“Oh really?” Regina sasses. “Well, why did you call for Gold’s help in the ship, then?”

“Because I have an affinity for storms, not deep water. You’re the one who taught me the difference, so I know you’re stalling. Why won’t you just share the tent?” Lucy challenges, emboldened. Her eyes twinkle with challenge and if anything, Regina won’t be outplayed by her own daughter.

“I never said I wouldn’t,” Regina replies, narrowing her eyes. “Come on, Miss Swan.”

“Wait, are we sharing the tent?” Emma startles.

“Keep up, Mom,” Lucy teases, hair already plastered to her face. She sits down on the tree-log, feeding the fire high, hands rising up to soak up the warmth. “Sleep tight.”

 _I can’t believe what I’m doing,_ Regina ignores her good night, taking off her coat and crawling into the tent, lying down on the pallet. Emma follows after a long few seconds, squeezing in. She makes a funny noise as they get to eye-level.

“Your jacket-”

“Is damp. I’m not going to catch a cold.” Regina narrows her eyes at Emma briefly, before shutting her eyes. After a minute, Emma shifting around, she opens them again to glare at the Saviour.

“Sorry, we’re just in tight quarters.”

“Lucy was challenging us. If we lose, I’ll make your life hell,” Regina reveals. Immediately, Emma frowns.

“Excuse me?”

“Get comfortable. She’s manipulative.”

“Then shouldn’t we _not_ do what she wants?”

“She wins, if we go down that route,” Regina grumbles. This close to each other, breathing the same air, legs touching and chests brushing whenever they breath, she can understand – _maybe_ – why she might co-parent another child with the Saviour.

Magic buzzes under her skin. It’s warm and _safe_ , in a way that Regina’s isn’t. Regina feels her own magic, smooth and deceptive silk in her blood. Emma though, Emma is full of so much contained power – it _radiates_ from her.

 _If anyone could heal me, it’s Emma,_ Regina agrees with Lucy’s assessment.

Emma, however, still fidgets and soon, it gets downright infuriating rather than simply _annoying_.

“Stay still, Miss Swan,” Regina growls.

“I’m not exactly used to sharing with someone like this,” Emma argues. “There’s no room to put my arms.”

“Well, there’s a simple, if disgusting solution for that,” Regina mutters.

“What, chop them off?” Emma jokes, before raising her eyebrow, asking permission. Regina grumbles, but nods her head and a few moments later, Emma moves her arms to wrap one around her waist and the other up near her head. _A pillow_ , Regina thinks, _lovely._

Shifting herself, Regina allows herself to relax somewhat, knowing it won’t work without it, putting her head closer to Emma’s. She makes a strange noise.

“What now, Swan?” she asks, eyes closing.

“It’s just…nothing. It’s nothing. Sorry.”

“Go to sleep, then,” Regina orders immediately. “No moving about in the night, if you would.”

“Sure, Your Majesty, I’ll try my hardest,” Emma replies, slightly sarcastic.

“You’d better,” Regina grumbles.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> feat., that famous Charming sword throw, guys and surprise lesbians.

Emma wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of children crying – but doesn’t remember Regina’s asleep in bed with her until she tries to move and begins to dislodge her. In her sleep, the Evil Queen shuffles about, latching onto Emma tightly.

Because, obviously, like when people in TV shows share a bed, Regina has somehow wound her own arms around her, their legs intertwined and Regina half-lying on top of her.

 _At least I’m not cold,_ Emma thinks, before craning to see outside. On her tree-log, fire extinguished in front of her, Lucy sits asleep, head still resting in her hands, elbow lodged neatly enough she’s still upright.

“Regina,” Emma tries to wake the Evil Queen up, still hearing the crying. It gets louder and Emma shakes Regina slightly, unable to coordinate herself enough to dislodge her. “Regina, wake up.”

A shadow falls over their tent and Emma freezes.

“How very interesting,” a boy comes to crouch in front of their tent. He’s blonde and lithe, head tilting as he looks the Queen up and down, gaze focusing on the large line of skin where her shirt has ridden up. Emma pulls it down for her, hand resting in place to keep it from slipping again.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, did I forget to introduce myself? I’m Peter – Peter Pan,” he says, before his hand locks around Regina’s ankle, smoothly moving forwards to hover over them both. Emma waves her hand at him, Pan narrowly avoiding being slapped across the face.

“Why won’t they wake up?”

“Why can’t they hear them crying?” Pan counters.

“Where’s Henry?” Emma demands, awkwardly grabbing her sword. Pan chuckles, leaning back into a crouch, still holding onto Regina’s ankle. “Let go of her.”

“So protective, though that’s no surprise. I’ve been watching you all. You’re Emma, aren’t you? And this is the famed Evil Queen.” Pan looks her up and down again, narrowing his eyes at her. “Very interesting…”

“What’s interesting?”

“Oh, nothing you’d understand,” Pan states, looking back at her. “Henry’s alive and unharmed. Don’t worry about him.”

“Why the hell did you take him?”

“An answer for an answer,” Pan offers, not waiting for Emma to reply. “Who’s the girl, over there, by the fire?”

“You first,” Emma prods.

Luckily, Pan acquiesces. “Henry’s a very special boy. The truest believer. He will bring back power to Neverland – and to me. The girl?”

“A time traveller,” Emma admits, wanting Regina to wake up already – but obviously, Pan’s done something. _He spelled them asleep, or something._ “She came by accident.”

“Time travel is impossible. I thought we made a deal, Emma,” Pan says, ominous, shaking his head. “You’ll find that the consequences aren’t the type you’d like.”

“She swore a- a witch’s vow, with Regina. That’s all the proof I have.”

Pan frowns slightly, before smiling. “Well, that is indeed true proof. I apologise. Do you know why I came here, Emma?”

“To kill me? To tell me I’m never going to see Henry again?”

“No,” he says. “I’m going to help you find him. I’ll give you a map – a map that will lead you straight to your son.”

“If this is some kind of trap-”

“I may not be the most well-behaved boy on the island, but I always keep my promises. The path to finding Henry is on this parchment,” he says, before taking out a piece of paper from his jacket, holding it out.

Lacking in hands, Emma hesitates, before putting her sword down, taking the parchment from him.

“Why are you giving it to me?”

Pan stands, walking backwards, so they can still see each other. Illuminated by the moon, he grins.

“See, it’s not about finding Henry. It’s about _how_ you find him – and, Emma, you are the only one who can.”

Emma looks away from him, shaking the parchment open. “It’s blank,” she replies.

“You’ll only be able to read that map when you stop denying who you really are,” Pan says, before disappearing in front of her eyes. A moment later, the fire springs to life again and Lucy jolts awake, rubbing at her eyes.

Emma stares at the empty parchment, before sleep begins to tug at her. Tucking it into the blankets, she gets comfortable again, Regina laying on her as a strange, but warm weight.

In the morning, she wakes up slowly. Emma doesn’t quite realise until she’s looking at Regina, half-asleep, that the Queen is awake as well.

She’s staring at the tent canvas, daydreaming maybe. She barely blinks and in the morning sun – angled _just_ off either of their faces, thank god – Emma has the sudden realisation that Regina is hot as fuck.

Emma can’t explain it – though she thinks that a younger Emma, who’d just said _hi_ and seen Henry run off into a giant manor house, would have found it easier to conjure the words. _She’s beautiful,_ Emma thinks, hair ruffled and eyes lidded with sleep. Emma wonders how she got the scar on her lip and if it was magic.

Eventually, Regina shifts, catching Emma’s eyes. There’s a long moment of silence, before Regina shuffles, sitting up slightly. Her black silk shirt moves slightly and Emma thinks it’s flashing a lot of skin, before Regina pauses, looking down at her with eyes full of confusion.

“Miss Swan,” she starts, pausing, “Emma.”

“Regina,” Emma replies, feeling more than anything like she’s got something to say.

“…I think Lucy has understated our relationship, in the future,” Regina speaks quietly, barely able to be heard. “Do you think that’s possible?”

Emma swallows, imagining a future version of herself in a relationship with Regina. Where they touch, now, feels like a buzz under her skin. It’s something she’s not felt for a long time, since she was first with Neal in their stolen yellow car.

“Maybe,” she breathes. Regina shifts, shirt riding up and abruptly, Emma remembers the night before. “Pan was here,” she blurts out, eyes widening. “He touched you.”

The flash of fear that goes across Regina’s fear breaks any moment they might have been having.

“He what?”

They untangle and Emma finds the so-called map, Regina huddling close to her – because the tent is so small, Emma tells herself – to see the blank piece of parchment.

“He came to me, gave me this. He said it would lead us to Henry.”

“It’s empty.”

“He said only I could read it,” Emma hurriedly explains, before starting from the beginning. “I woke up because- because I heard crying, but everyone was asleep. You wouldn’t wake up. Pan came to the front of the tent and we started talking.”

“When did he touch me?” Regina questions quickly.

“He leant over us, used your ankle as a grip. He didn’t let go for a while and-” Emma pauses, “and he looked at you. You know, like…like…”

They share a glance and a mutual understanding passes between them.

“Like any other man with dark intentions,” Regina says lowly. “What then?”

“I pulled down your shirt, so he couldn’t look,” Emma says, not expecting the strange look on Regina’s face at her words. “What? He’s a creep, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine. Thank-you,” Regina says, mollified. “I’m…I’m just not used to people defending me.”

“Lucy was yesterday,” Emma points out.

“She’s my daughter from the future who loves me – she’s exempt,” Regina replies quietly, hand drifting over her stomach, pressing there briefly before she fists her shirt. “What happened next?”

“We talked. He said Henry’s alive and unharmed, then when I asked what he wanted from him, he proposed a trade of information.” Emma doesn’t mention how he found Regina _interesting_ , not wanting to know what he could have found so intriguing about the Evil Queen.

“What did he ask you?” Regina frowns.

Emma hesitates, thinking, in retrospect, that perhaps she shouldn’t have gone through with the deal. _I shouldn’t have told him Lucy’s from the future. She knows the future – she knows this adventure. She knows how we defeat him._

Blanching suddenly at her own thoughts, Emma swallows. “He said that Henry is something called the truest believer and that he’s going to bring back power to Neverland.”

“What did he ask you?” Regina repeats, angry. She reaches to Emma’s throat, holding her neck tightly. Emma doesn’t try to stop her, shaking slightly at her own stupidity.

“He asked who Lucy was. I told him she was a time traveller. When he called me a liar, I told him that she swore that oath with you.”

Regina’s face twists into one of perfect fury and she pushes Emma back, crawling out of the tent and storming towards Lucy.

 _What have I done?_ Emma asks herself, before following.

* * *

“Lucy, you’re in danger,” Regina doesn’t stop for niceties. Immediately, the entire campsite is looking at her, Hook standing from his place as watcher by the fire as. Meeting Lucy’s eyes, Regina waits till she’s standing from her pallet before continuing. “Pan came to visit last night. He knows you’re from the future. Can you defend yourself from him?”

“I- yes, yeah,” Lucy startles. “How did he find out?”

A sneer curls on Regina’s lip. “Ask your other mother. Apparently, she thought it was a good idea to trade information about Henry for information about _you_.”

The look on her daughter’s face is a mixture between hurt and dread, but in general, it produced a frown.

“I can survive Pan.”

“He might try kidnapping you for information,” Regina warns.

“I’ve survived torture before,” Lucy replies, sounding a little amused at her own answer.

“Oh?” Regina questions, getting a short grin.

“If I can survive twenty-two hour labour, I can deal with Peter Pan,” she says, sounding proud – as if it’s not completely new information.

“Labour?” Hook questions, looking Lucy up and down. “You’ve had a child?”

Lucy immediately stops grinning. “…yeah. I’ve got a daughter. She’s twenty-eight months. Two and a bit,” she says, glancing at Regina with a slightly nervous expression.

“What’s her name?” Regina asks, blown off-topic by the new info. _Eventually, I’m going to be a grandmother._ She’d never even thought about it before. It wasn’t as if Henry reproducing in ten years was something she’d wondered over.

“Mia,” Lucy replies, before smiling weakly over Regina’s shoulder. “So, Pan came?”

“Yeah,” Emma comes to stand at Regina’s shoulder. “Henry’s alive and he isn’t hurt. Pan called him the ‘truest believer’ and said he would bring back power to Neverland.”

Regina listens as Emma describes her meeting with Pan to their party members, leaving out his lecherous behaviour. Regina feels uncomfortable thinking about it, wondering what ankle he touched – where he looked. At least with the King, she had been able to see – had _known_ – what he was doing.

The thought of being in an enchanted sleep, being stared at like a piece of meat, makes her feel more ill than the thought of the Charmings naming their son _Leo_ does.

“We can’t let Pan take Lucy,” Snow says firmly.

“I agree with the princess,” Hook says, looking to Emma. “You shouldn’t have agreed to the trade. Pan will always get more out of you than you will of him.”

“Well, I know that now,” Emma mutters, turning to Lucy. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Frankly, if he does capture me, I don’t want you to play rescuer.”

“I’m not going to leave you behind,” Regina interrupts.

Lucy puts her hand up, “Mom, it’s all good. You just need to keep the timeline intact. With me out of the equation – even if it worries you – you’ve more chance of defeating Pan than if I’m helping you. I wouldn’t be the only prisoner in Neverland, anyway.”

“Neal,” Emma breathes.

“He’s probably been captured by now, yes,” Lucy confirms, before the other half of their party react.

“Neal’s alive?”

“I thought you said he was dead!”

“What do you mean, captured?”

“He’s alive,” Regina answers sharply, “he found his way to Neverland at some point. Lucy hasn’t mentioned any sort of timeline, but most likely, he’s already been captured by Pan. There’s nothing we can do to change it, if he hasn’t yet, either – and we _shouldn’t_.”

“Mom’s right,” Lucy confirms. “Changing time means correcting time and we simply don’t have the time. I won’t let him manipulate me or tell him anything, anything at all.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you in his clutches, should he get you,” Regina says, worried. “I’ve already got Henry to think about-”

“He’s more important than me, right now. Without him, the future would change drastically – trust me.” Lucy says, before hugging her. Regina accepts the hug, holding her tightly, unable to believe that the girl has wormed her way into her heart so quickly.

 _She loves me,_ Regina thinks, knowing that what she’d said – that her future self would be more upset if she got hurt or worse, died – are far from true. _I’d be just as hurt if she died. She’s my daughter, regardless if she’s from the future or not._

“How does this map work, then?” Charming questions.

* * *

Listening to her family arguing over the map and Emma trying to state who she is to it, Lucy stays out of matters, rubbing her sore feet. Knowing what Emma has to admit to herself to make the map work, she knows that any input she’d give could change things. That doesn’t stop them from asking her.

“You’re from the future, lass,” Killian leans on the tree she’s sitting on the roots of. “How are we supposed to work the map?”

“Spoilers,” Lucy replies, “I can’t tell you.”

“You’ve told us plenty of future knowledge already, why not this?”

“This is a focal part of Mom’s…character development, I suppose, to be clinical about it,” Lucy says delicately, knowing that most of them are listening to her. “I could speed things up, but there’d be consequences and Pan has rules.”

Killian’s expression darkens. “Aye, that he does. Foreknowledge could be called cheating.”

“He doesn’t like cheaters,” Lucy states and the two of them share a look, before Snow tries to bolster Emma.

“Don’t you think maybe you’re leaving some things out?” she questions, as if it’s obvious.

Emma glances at them before looking back to the map, speaking nervously. “I’m the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, which apparently makes me the product of true love. I was born in the Enchanted Forest and I was sent through a portal in a tree so that I could break a curse.”

“And you were able to break the curse because you’re the...” David prompts obviously. Frankly, it’s cringeworthy.

Snow encourages her and it takes all Lucy’s prowess not to laugh at her tone. “Come on. You don’t need to be embarrassed to say it.”

“Say what?” Killian questions.

“The ‘ _s_ ’ word,” Regina states, pushing off the tree.

Emma takes a moment to presumably push away her embarrassment. _It’s kind of strange, to think it took till now for her to accept it,_ Lucy muses.

“I’m the Saviour.” The map, as it would, stays blank. “I don’t get it. I said I’m the Savior. There’s nothing I’ve denied more than that.”

“No, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” Snow says, before Regina walks forwards to grab the map.

“No, you won’t.”

“Regina!” Emma exclaims as Lucy stands, taking the sharp stick she’d been making more pointy over the morning with a rock. As everyone debates over her mother using a tracking spell, Lucy thinks of a sword, imagining it in her hand instead of a stick – just like Henry did.

 _I’m holding a sword,_ she thinks. Drawing on the memory of her sword, in the future, she remembers the weight of it – of the clash it makes when she spars with Mulan and the way it whistles through the air.

“So it appears we will be venturing into the Dark Jungle after all,” Killian states as Lucy opens her eyes to the sight of her Jian sword, happy that her imagination was enough. Smiling in triumph, she reaches for the vine belt she’d made up earlier, sheathing her sword in the loop before tying it around her back, untucking the pink tassel from where it sticks in her collar.

“You mean the place you told us never to set foot?” Emma questions.

“That’s the one,” Killian confirms.

“Well, Emma,” Regina says, sounding far less confident than before as Lucy begins to follow the floating map to Pan, tying her hair up with a hair-band she’d found in her pocket. “You said you wanted to be the leader. Lead.”

“If Lucy doesn’t lead us first,” Snow says wryly.

“Where’d you get the sword?” Emma questions. Lucy twists, still walking in the direction of the parchment, giving a cheeky smile.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Their trek into the Dark Jungle quickly tamps down on any positive emotion she has, though. The magic twists around her and frankly, Lucy is just _waiting_ for some form of jumpscare. The hairs on the back of her neck prickle and she _hates_ the sudden noises, her heart thumping in her chest painfully.

Eventually, they find a camp and if they’d been _anywhere_ else, Lucy would have laughed at her mothers words.

“I can smell his smugness.”

In the distance, they see someone who looks like Henry – but it’s Pan, dressed in his clothes. A shiver runs through Lucy, because frankly even _she_ was a little impressed at how Pan could look like his great grandson from behind.

 _The family resemblance is uncanny,_ she thinks, before recalling the picture of her great grandmother in Henry’s book as the Black Fairy, head tilted back in evil laughter. _The ‘Stiltskin genes are strong,_ Lucy thinks, glancing at her mother.

She wonders, in an alternate universe, if Fiona and Regina stand side by side, giving identical, withering glares.

“You broke the rules,” Pan taunts. “That’s not fair. Bad form. I expect more from you, captain.”

“Aye and you’ll get it,” Killian growls in reply, before Emma demands Pan give Henry to her.

“Sorry, can’t. Don’t you know?” Pan laughs. “Cheaters never win.”

 _Here we go,_ Lucy thinks as the Lost Boys surround them, taking out her sword from its makeshift holster, turning away from Pan to face the other circle of Lost Boys.

“Watch out for their arrows. They’re laced with dreamshade,” Pan warns, before they attack.

 _No!_ Lucy thinks, using her sword to knock away arrow after arrow before hearing her grandfather exclaim her grandmothers name. Without thinking she turns away from the Lost Boys, throwing her sword with accurate precision and timing in front of the arrow meant to slice her grandfather’s side – spearing a Lost Boy in the chest against a tree.

“Lucy!” Regina exclaims, before she feels something burrow into her arm with enough force to make her fall forwards. _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ she swears, gritting her teeth before twisting onto her arse, shutting her eyes and reaching her magic up and up-

Lucy suddenly feels light-headed. Withdrawing her magic, giving up on the idea of calling a thunderstorm like she used to as a child and had done last night in an attempt at matchmaking, she curls up on the ground, looking at the arrow in her arm.

Blood seeps between her arm and jacket. _Everything I own and/or borrow from my parents gets destroyed every time there’s a Big Bad around,_ Lucy thinks, before pulling the arrow out, forcing herself not to cry out.

Unfortunately, her body decides that it’s a good time to black out. The next thing she knows, she’s lying in Regina’s lap, jacket draped over her lap and her sword in her grandpa’s hand.

“What does it do?” Regina questions as Lucy looks at the wound – small and leaking blood, black poison veins already numb and stinging a centimetre around the wound. “Can we reverse it?”

“Aye, we can, but not without consequence,” Killian states seriously. “She’d never be able to leave Neverland, time traveller or not. The magic that would cure her comes from Neverland. My captain, my- my brother, Liam, he died the moment we returned to our homeland.”

“I got hit with dreamshade,” Lucy lets that sink in, knowing there’s no cure – not yet. “It was supposed to be Grandpa.”

“What?” Snow gasps.

Lucy looks up at her mother, seeing Regina’s eyes are slightly glassy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want me being here to change things, to- to change things enough that Grandpa died.”

“Well, look how that turned out,” Regina snaps, throat clogged. “What am I supposed to do with you when you’re born if you’re this reckless?”

“Mom likes to call me brave,” Lucy swallows, feeling well enough to sit up but not doing it, wanting to stay held in her mother’s grasp.

“ _Brave_ ,” Regina repeats, clutching her tighter. “What about Mia? What about her other parent?”

“Alexandra,” Lucy replies. “Alexandra Herman-Mills.”

“Cinderella’s daughter?” Regina questions. “Really? And you married her at, what – nineteen?”

“Only a couple of months ago. We eloped, really. It was fun. Killian was an enabler. Captains can marry people, even in the land without magic.”

“Was I invited?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” Lucy replies cheekily, before getting up, forcing herself to face the music. Smile leaving her, she looks to Killian. “Can you take me to Dead Man’s Peak? Granddad can make a cure, but only if he has extra water.”

Killian nods shortly. “Of course, lass. We’ll leave when you’re feeling rested enough.”

“Dead Man’s Peak?” Emma questions.

“It has a fountain,” Killian states warily, glancing around. “Though, it _can_ wait.”

“It _should_ ,” Lucy agrees, letting Regina help her to her feet, tugging her jacket back on with a wince as it drags across her arrow-wound. “Emma still has to unlock the map. When she does, we’ll go find the camp and save my brother.”

“But-” Regina starts, before Killian interrupts.

“The lass is right to prioritise the boy. The poison is slow and takes far longer to work than some. She has days, if not weeks. There’s time, Your Majesty.”

“…there’d better be,” Regina mutters, before looking to Emma. “Get that map working. Soon.”

“I will,” Emma promises, looking at Lucy with a frightened expression. “I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain.”

“I know you won’t, Mom,” Lucy reaches out to her with her spare hand, the other encased in Regina’s, like she’s five again and can’t cross the road on her own. “I believe in you.”

Emma smiles, but it’s a sad smile.

“Thanks, kid.”


	5. Chapter 5

_“You need help, Luce,” Alexandra says, kissing her forehead. Lucy clutches her hand tightly as another contraction rips through her. “Luce, please, let me go get someone-”_

_“The storm’s too strong, it’ll rip you apart,” Lucy weeps, lower back screaming at her. Outside, the wind batters, the weather wards flickering. “I can’t even make it better-”_

_“You’ve been in labour too long,” Alexandra says, but her arms wrap around her tightly, holding her before moving to sit behind her. “Why did we have to move into our own apartment?”_

_Lucy sags into her True Love as the contraction passes, pain dulling slightly. Head limply turning to rest against Alexandra’s chin._

_“I want my moms,” she whimpers. Alexandra makes a soothing noise, reaching up to tuck a strand of her sweat-soaked hair behind her ear. “I want them here, Alex.”_

_“I know, I know. If they knew what was happening, damn the town flooding, they’d **be** here, Lucy. Maybe if we’re lucky, one of them’ll come to check on us, yeah?”_

_“Unlikely,” Lucy mumbles. “I’m not due for a month yet.”_

_“She’s impatient to come out.”_

_“Well, she’s taking her damn time,” Lucy replies, before slipping into a short nap. Behind her, Alexandra takes the time to cry, wiping her eyes furiously. But she counts the seconds – the minutes. If there’s anything she’s learnt in the land without magic, even if it’s just from hospital dramas and movies, it’s that contractions have to be timed._

_Less than ten minutes later, Lucy wakes up, contracting again. Alexandra forgets about braiding her long, blonde locks, focusing on her girlfriend and their baby._

_“You’re doing so well, you’re amazing,” she praises. The time between contractions drastically reduces after than and half an hour later, Alexandra has to force herself to get out from behind Lucy._

_“No, no, I need you-”_

_“I need to be here, Lucy,” Alexandra, heart pounding. Her nerves are on fire and she shakes with worry as Lucy yells and cries. Between her legs – and oh, it is so_ very _different to being between her legs for pleasurable reason – Alexandra wraps their daughter in a soft towel when she comes out, all blue, bloody and belting._

_“She’s so loud,” Lucy laughs, before groaning. Alexandra panics slightly, before Lucy shakes her head. “Cut the cord, it’s just the-” she cuts herself off with a moan and Alexandra gives their daughter to her, lying her on the bed, snuggled against Lucy’s side as she cleans up as much as she dares._

_Using scissors to cut the cord, Alexandra watches Lucy use the smallest amount of magic to summon a clamp, like they’d seen on the internet._

_“She’s so beautiful,” Alexandra says, before Lucy tiredly nods. “Our Mia.”_

_“Mia Herman-Mills, welcome to the world. You are so, so very fucking loved.”_

* * *

Her mother strokes her hair and it’s both a soothing and numbing motion. Eventually, Lucy finishes telling her about Mia’s birth.

“Granddad showed up a couple of hours later and he got a maternity doctor from the hospital, popped them right over with a bag. The storm didn’t stop until the next day, when- when, well, when you found what triggered it.”

“No spoilers, I see,” Regina murmurs, distant. “You were alone, except for Alexandra. She sounds like she loves you very much.”

“She does,” Lucy replies. “I miss her.”

“Why don’t you wear rings?”

“Rings, such an old-fashioned, classy notion,” Lucy teases. “Everyone who cared knew we got hitched. We don’t need rings to show we’re married. We’re True Loves – it’s not like we’re about to cheat on each other. If the love and care ever goes out of our relationship, we’ll talk about it like adults.”

“You don’t sound like a nineteen year old,” Regina chuckles.

“I made choices that forced me to grow up. I had Mia, I fell in love with Alex. Her parents rule their kingdom in the Enchanted Forest and eventually, we will too. Then, Mia.”

“Queen Mia,” Regina tries out loud. “Very nice.”

“Yeah, it is,” Lucy replies, before sitting up, stretching. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll just be here,” Regina replies.

Wandering a little outside their camp, Lucy does her business before taking a moment to look up at the stars. The constellations are so different to those of the Enchanted Forest, Storybrooke and even the Other Realm that Henry made his home in. _I wonder if fairies can hear people wishing on stars in Neverland._

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” a new voice asks.

Startled, Lucy looks down, finding a boy standing across from her. He isn’t looking at the stars though, his eyes locked on Lucy.

“Are you mad or impossible?”

“…that’s a rather Alice-like question,” Lucy replies, frowning. “Peter Pan?”

“Yes, but one that needs answered – and yes, I am Peter,” he says, bowing slightly. “I heard your story. Very moving. Your wife must miss you dearly.”

“Probably, if Gideon fessed up and I didn’t return immediately to my timeline,” Lucy replies. “What do you want?”

“You,” he says. “Emma’s not managed to activate the map yet. I’d rather watch her try than question you, but this is a necessity.”

“Please do that instead,” Lucy tries, “preserving the timeline is important.”

“I don’t care about the timeline, my dear Lucy. I only care about my own survival.” Before Lucy can do more than make a muffled noise, a gag is tied around her head, Lost Boys silently tying her up. Magic sparks from her hands, literally, the one tying her hands jerking back, burned.

“ _Mrmh_ ,” Lucy tries to speak behind her gag, to shout for her mothers for help, kicking out at the Lost Boys, but they’d taken her by surprise. One grabs her hurt arm and she lets out a pained cry, watching Pan chuckle before disappearing, the Lost Boys lifting her up and running her through the Dark Jungle.

 _Let me go!_ She tries to summon her magic, but then someone blows something in her face and she goes limp, out like a light.

* * *

“We need a new plan,” Emma states.

“Agreed,” Regina nods, before looking around with a frown. “Have you seen Lucy? She went off for a moment, but I haven’t seen her for a while.”

Emma shakes her head. “No. Which way did she go?”

“Lucy!” Regina shouts, waiting for an answer before shouting again. “Lucy!”

“Is the lass missing?” Hook inquires, worried.

“Let’s do a perimeter check,” Snow says, “Maybe she’s collapsed from the dreamshade.”

At Snow’s words, Regina becomes even more on-edge. “Let’s do that.”

They check the camp and all around it, going beyond the basic perimeter. But it becomes clear that Lucy is nowhere to be found.

“Pan’s taken her, he has to have taken her,” Regina states, clenching her fists.

“Aye, that he must have,” Hook shakes his head. “We need to keep going on, like she said.”

Heart cold in her chest at the thought of leaving her, despite Lucy’s demands, Regina stalks off to the edge of the camp, crossing her arms. Stress pervades her very being, worry and fear at both her children being taken by Pan driving her to insanity.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she calls, shutting her eyes. “Rumplestiltskin. Rumplestiltskin.”

A moment later, he appears in the shadow of the trees, glancing out onto the camp. Hook, Emma and the Charmings are all arguing about going to find Lucy or not, citing her speech about the timeline staying intact.

“What happened?” Rumple snaps dangerously.

“Pan kidnapped my daughter, that’s what,” Regina snaps back with equal anger. Rumple has war-paint on, she realises a moment later. “What the hell is on your face?”

Rumple growls. “I told you all that Pan wasn’t like anything you’d seen before. He’s worse than I am, Regina.”

“That, I find hard to believe,” Regina says, even as thoughts of what he could be doing to both Henry and Lucy bloom in her mind.

Rumple gives her the stink-eye. “What do you want from me? I’m busy.”

And of course, Regina remembers, all of a sudden. “To tell you some happy news: Baelfire lives.”

The Dark One reacts appropriately, eyes widening before he snarls at her. “You lie!”

“No, I really do not,” Regina hisses, grinning. “Because Lucy knows him. She’s _met_ him. He’s her _Uncle_ _Bae._ ”

Rumple growls and the magic in him writhes. “What else do you want to tell me, witch? That you know what Cora kept from you? That you know who Peter Pan _really_ is?”

All the smugness drains out of her. “What did my mother keep from me?” _No. What else did she lie to me about?_ At Regina’s question, Rumple himself loses some confidence, stepping back slightly, slightly lost. “What, Rumple?”

“…you’d not appreciate the news, I don’t think.” Rumplestiltskin says, unusually sober. Regina swallows, stepping closer to him, leaving the sight of her fellow party members. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“I’ll just ask Lucy, when we find her. She’ll tell me.” Regina says, brow knitting together. “You’re acting strange, Rumple.”

“It’s a strange situation. If I’d known myself, I’d have never trained you like I did or given you the Dark Curse to cast.”

“What? Why?”

Rumplestiltskin raises his chin, straightening and steeling himself. “I’d like to think that I wouldn’t risk losing my only daughter to the perils of darkness.”

 _Daughter,_ Regina thinks, before it clicks into place. _Only daughter._

“How?” she splutters, immediately regretting the question as he smirks.

“The usual way, dearie. Though, with the True Love babe on the way, soon, you might not need know the detailed workings.”

Regina puts up her hand to stop him from speaking, shutting her eyes as she tries to purge the imagining of her mother and Cora together in that way from her mind.

“Please, stop,” she says, voice pained even as her thoughts shift to another thought. _Daddy. I can’t believe he’s not…but he was, he **was** my daddy. He loved me, for all that his weakness, his inability to stand up to my mother had me married to the king._

“Oh, so you don’t want to hear about the time that we-”

“Shut up, Papa,” Regina hisses, opening her eyes just to see the look on his face when she calls him that. The result is something she’ll endeavour to remember, whenever she despairs at his existence, his face going slack, eyes wide in wonder. “Back on to the original topic, Lucy has been taken. She doesn’t want us fiddling with the timeline to get her back and _we_ won’t – but you will.”

“Why would I?” he questions, voice slightly off.

“Because she’s your granddaughter, same as Henry,” Regina says, even as the prospect makes her stomach curl. _I’m Henry’s aunt by blood. I can’t even believe this._ “You can see into the future. Find a moment that you can intervene-”

“I’ll try. Time is fickle,” Rumple interrupts her, stepping forth into the light, standing less than a foot away from her. “I promise to try, Regina.”

“…thank-you,” she says, after a long moment, before remembering a last fact. “When we get back to Storybrooke, you have to manufacture an antidote for dreamshade. She took an arrow to the arm, rather than let Prince Charming get hit.”

“Fantastic,” he mutters sarcastically. There’s a long moment of silence, before Regina nods at him, by _far_ more hesitant to make good relations with him than with Lucy. He disappears and Regina breathes in, the truth still ringing through her brain.

_Rumplestiltskin is my father. Rumplestiltskin is my father._

“Regina?” Emma calls. “Regina, we’re going to head for Pan’s camp – where are you?”

“Fine,” Regina says, twisting back and stepping into view. Emma immediately frowns, but doesn’t say anything, looking to the map again but unable to resist glancing at her. Regina raises an eyebrow at her.

“…you’ve got a funny look on your face. What’s up?”

“Rumplestiltskin is my father,” Regina says clearly. Emma’s eyes widen, before Snow exclaims.

“He’s _what?_ ”

“I can’t believe the Crocodile reproduced again,” Hook says in a disbelieving voice.

“Well, he did and I’m here,” Regina replies testily.

“How did you even find out?” Charming questions.

“I summoned him,” she says, “to help with Lucy. He’s a seer. If he can, without repercussions, then he will. It’s safer than any of us trying to find her.”

“That was a really clever idea, Regina,” Emma encourages.

“Thank-you, Miss Swan.”

* * *

When she wakes up, she’s in the dark. Lucy looks around, but only sees the faint reflection of water on dewy walls from moonlight. She looks up, barely able to see the moon itself due to the bars of her cage.

 _I’m in a cage,_ she thinks, before finding a small loaf of bread and a bowl of water by her head. Wary, she pokes the bread, tearing part of the crust off before looking at the water. _There’s so many ways to poison water. It might not even **be** water._

Changing positions, crossing her legs and rearranging her skirt, Lucy lets her eyes adjust to the dark, realising that her cage is in the middle of an empty space – that she’s on a pillar, like her Uncle Baelfire was in the Book.

“Have I taken his place?” she questions herself in horror. An echoing chuckle comes from around her, reverberating off the walls as a shadow blocks the moon.

“Am I to have another prisoner? How fun. I see you know where you are.”

“The Echo Cave,” Lucy replies to Pan in the tiny hole in the top of the cave, who laughs again.

“You _do_ know this story, then! Oh and don’t worry about the water – it’s from the fountain. It will cure you of the dreamshade.”

“And trap me on Neverland,” Lucy mumbles, before picking it up, drinking it. Immediately, she feels her wound heal and an ache she hadn’t even realised in her arm receding.

“So quick to trust me…”

“I’m useful. You wouldn’t poison me.”

“Very true,” Pan says, before the moonlight returns. Lucy looks up, but he’s gone. It takes her an embarrassing amount of time to remember what he first said.

_Am I to have another prisoner?_

“Uncle Bae isn’t here yet,” she blanches. “What’s Pan going to do with him when he does?”

_I’m already in here – where’s Bae going to go?_

* * *

Travelling across Neverland to find Tinkerbell’s hideout takes a day and a half. They break to make camp once and in that time, Regina only falls further and further into herself. Henry, _one_ child gone, maybe she could have dealt with and not gone completely insane.

Two?

It’s worse, thinking of them both. She has more memories of Henry, but what Lucy is, is _potential._ Nineteen years – and a granddaughter and daughter in law, too, no less. Lucy is a package of unhappened hopes and dreams that Regina is on the brink of losing. It makes her hate Pan all the more for taking them.

However, that’s not the only thing that worries her. Tinkerbell – Tinkerbell who thought she could lead Regina to her soulmate and make her life a happy thing. _Magic comes with a price and I was **queen**. Leopold would never have suffered his presence._

“Hey,” Emma calls when she lags, uneasy at the thought of seeing Tinkerbell again. “You’re falling behind. Hook thinks her place is up ahead, come on.”

“Well, if she still lives there. You go waste your time searching, I’ll wait.”

“Regina,” Emma starts, coming over to her. “What happened between you and Tinkerbell?”

“We…we have a complicated history. It was during the time where I was still married to the king,” Regina grimaces, crossing her eyes. “She wanted to help.”

“How could she help? Why would she?” Emma frowns.

“She’s a fairy,” Regina snaps, “and a good person. She saved my life when I- when…”

“When what?”

“When I fell off my balcony,” Regina mutters, remembering how she slammed the metal fence, so _angry_ and most likely, channelling her magic and her frustration at being caged into it. Basically, subconsciously, a suicide attempt. Tinkerbell most likely knew it, too – she was watching, after all.

“So…then what?” Emma questions.

“Then she listened to my sorrows about being queen,” Regina snaps, a hairs breadth away from shouting at the Saviour. “She listened to me complain about having to deal with Snow and- and the King.”

“Deal with?” Emma’s face twists. “I thought you only hated Snow.”

Regina laughs in her face. “ _Only_ Snow? Well, I certainly hated her first, but by no means did I hate her the most. The King was an adult man, _Emma_ , your dear grandfather. I’m sure that when, in the future, the Charmings have another child and name him Leo, they’ll be _very_ happy they picked that name – but I won’t.”

“Did Lucy tell you that?” Emma questions, after Regina takes a breath. “Because time can change.”

“Not that much,” Regina mutters bitterly. “Some things are inevitable. God, I’m a mess.”

“You’re still looking pretty hot after half a week in the jungle,” Emma points out, Regina eyeing her slightly.

“Exactly. What am I usually, in Storybrooke?”

Emma coughs lightly, “Uh, well…hot as fuck, I suppose.”

“‘Pretty hot’ and ‘hot as fuck’ are two _very_ different descriptors, Miss Swan,” Regina says, but she smiles a little. “And though I _was_ talking about my mental state, the sentiment is appreciated. You’re not too bad yourself.”

“And what am I usually?” Emma bounces back, raising an eyebrow. Regina smirks.

“A mess.”

“You’re not going to even extend that, are you?” Emma questions wryly. Regina comes closer to her, leaning in.

“I’m a Queen. You’re just a Princess. I think I’ve earned it, don’t you?”

Emma narrows her eyes, before her gaze flickers to behind her. Regina turns to see Tinkerbell step out of the bush.

“Are you done flirting?” she asks harshly.

“Oh, that wasn’t flirting, that was a warm-up,” Regina immediately replies, frowning at her. “You look terrible. Emma looks better than you do right now and that’s saying something.”

“Hey,” Emma interrupts, before Tinkerbell replies.

“Are you trying to provoke me?”

Regina smirks, about to give a sassy comment before Emma’s hand comes to brush her hip.

“Regina, we need her help.”

“We _want_ her help and most likely, she’s not going to give it,” Regina states, not moving. Emma keeps her hand on her, keeping her attention.

“Can we at least try? Don’t you want to get Henry and Lucy back?”

“You think you’re so smart, but you’re going to fail,” Tinkerbell says, before blowing red dust in their faces. Immediately, Regina feels the call to sleep and when she wakes in the cave, hands tied and without Emma.

“About time you woke up,” Tinkerbell says, attracting her attention. “I’ve been looking forwards to the chat for quite some time.”

“Look, you don’t know why I’m here,” Regina states, sitting up.

“Oh, I know exactly why you’re here – you’re trying to find your son and this Lucy girl who claims to be a time traveller and your daughter.”

“She claimed it while swearing a witch’s vow, so yes, I’d hope she was a time traveller. I take it by the restraints, you’re not helping, as I thought you wouldn’t. Where’s Emma?”

“I left her behind and hell no. You’re the last person I’d ever help after how you burned me.”

“Burned you? You’re the one who interfered in my life?” Regina laughs.

“And threw away my own in the process,” Tinkerbell hisses, stepping forwards.

“So, what do you want from me? To kill me? You think it’s that easy? Whatever you knocked me out with I can tell it’s not magic. Maybe poppies. But they're wearing off – and since you had to resort to that, it only means one thing.” Regina stands up, smirking. “You don’t have magic. But I do.”

Breaking her binds, Regina sways slightly, Tinkerbell not hesitating before holding an arrow to her throat.

“Yeah, I know. But even your magic can’t stop this. Have you ever heard of dreamshade?”

“Yes. It’s currently afflicting my child,” Regina replies, still smirking.

“Shame it’s not you,” she says.

“How the hell did you get like this?” Regina questions, not expecting Tinkerbell’s answer.

“I met you.”

The rest of their conversation is a whiplash, talking of taken wings, soulmates, fear, death, hope and love. _You love your children?_ Tinkerbell had asked her and Regina said, _very much. They’re the only things I’ve done and am going to do right in this universe._

There’s a strange feeling in her chest when she hears Emma’s exclamation, asking where the hell Regina is, threatening Tinkerbell with a sword.

“I’m fine, Emma, don’t attack her,” Regina says, coming to stand by the clipped fairy. Emma lowers her sword, reaching out to grip her arm, Regina returning the gesture briefly. Squeezing gently, she looks at Emma and tries to get across the message _I’m fine._

Emma hesitates, but nods and then they’re convincing Tinkerbell to help them.

Later, Tinkerbell comes up to Regina and asks her, “Did you ever go back and find him? The man with the lion tattoo?”

“No,” Regina says.

“Unreal. Do you know how selfish that is?”

Regina raises her eyebrows at Tinkerbell, turning to look at her. “It’s a lot of things. But how is it selfish?”

“Because you didn’t just ruin your life.” Tinkerbell states, “You ruined his.”


	6. Chapter 6

Several things happen in succession. They raid Neal’s Neverland cave and find his star-map; they decide to contact Henry via the Lost Boys; they capture a Lost Boy; Emma watches Regina take his heart off after practically ordering it; they get the Lost Boy to give Henry a mirror piece; and then, finally, they speak to their son.

When his image fades, Emma turns to Regina, brimming with energy. She grabs her arms, holding her in place.

“We just saw Henry.”

“He’s alive,” Regina breathes in deeply, finding a grip on Emma too. Almost immediately, Emma feels something under her skin – something _alive_ and strong, even though it doesn’t take up a lot of space. She grips harder, recognising it as magic – _Regina’s_ magic.

 _There’s something wrong, though,_ Emma realises in the heat of the moment. _Something wrong with Regina._ She reaches out with her own magic without meaning to, not expecting Regina to suck in her breath as she untangles the knot inside her.

It’s almost… _instinctive_ and it scares her, somewhat, as she knows the puzzle inside Regina despite how she shouldn’t. It’s second-nature to fix it – a nature Emma didn’t know she had.

“Emma…” Regina murmurs, before the knot finishes untwisting and there’s a moment, before Emma’s magic fills the space left. It makes her knees buckle slightly, like the wind has been knocked out of her, but Regina keeps her standing.

“Emma? What’s happening, sweetheart?” Mary-Margaret questions, coming to her side. Emma meets Regina’s eyes, confused and worried.

“What did I do?” There’s a vulnerable expression on Regina’s face. She looks lost and scared both at the same time. “What did I _do?_ ” she demands, suddenly terrified.

“I- I-” Regina forces their arms apart, stumbling back. “You-” She falls silent, resting against a tree, still staring at Emma.

“What happened?” Mary-Margaret asks again, but Emma shakes her head.

“I don’t know, but Regina obviously does.”

“It’s too dangerous to talk about, Emma,” Regina says, voice strained. “Not here. We can’t talk where Pan’s eyes might see.”

“We just contacted our _son_ here,” Emma tries to make her see reason, guilt already bubbling away in her stomach. _What did I do to her?_

Regina forces a small smile, shaking her head. “I’m not telling, Miss Swan. Let’s get back to the campsite, before Hook and Charming get back from their expedition for the fountain waters.” Emma swallows, nodding at the reminder of what the guys had been doing – collecting water so Gold could make an antidote for Lucy.

In the face of her disappearance, it seems all too farfetched to believe in time travel and to gather magic water to cure her, when Lucy _isn’t here._

“Yeah,” she agrees and they walk back to the camp. When Mary-Margaret brings up Henry, worrying over him, Emma says, “He’s fine.”

“You know this, _how?_ ” Regina questions quietly, but in a no less _Regina_ tone.

Emma stops, reaching out to her for a brief moment before putting her hand back down by her side. “Because he’s our son and he’s a survivor – and now he has something to survive _for_. He knows we’re coming and we’re not gonna let him down.”

Regina meets her eyes for a long moment, before nodding.

David and Hook return a while after they do, a long line of water-skins on each of their backs. Regina had summoned them earlier from the _Jolly_ _Roger_ for them to use and seeing them now, Emma makes up an excuse for herself to go help.

“Thanks, this is great, guys,”

“Anything for the lass,” Hook says.

“Why?” Emma asks, suddenly curious.

Hook raises an eyebrow. “My future depends on it. If a witch from the future says I’m to have a son and a beloved, willing to love again and take on all the responsibilities of a parent, then I’d bloody well better save the girl before she undoes existence by putting the Queen into an unspeakable depression.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“But no less true,” Hook says. “Let us hope Pan divulges their locations for us.”

“Their?” Emma questions, before abruptly recalling that Neal is alive. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. If he was not, Bae most definitely is captured now and I intend to release him.”

Emma raises her eyebrows. “Wow. Luce really wasn’t kidding about those weird paternal feelings you have for him.”

Hook rolls his eyes. “I spent many years with that boy, sailing around Neverland, when he was still a boy.”

“Well, he’s a man now,” Emma hedges, “I don’t think he needs another dad.”

“I care for him. I was his step-father, once, for all I never saw him until well after his mother died,” Hook says.

“…cool,” Emma thinks, inwardly shaking her head, thinking of Henry. _You have one weird-ass family tree, kiddo._

They count water-skins, totalling them up to twelve. It’s more than enough and if they see Lucy soon, they’ll force one on her, in case the poison starts to spread quicker.

“We should all carry one,” Regina says, “in case. Even if we have enough water to last us to Storybrooke, it won’t do any good if someone else gets hit while Lucy has it all.”

“Good idea, Regina,” Emma says, eyeing her, still wondering what strange magic she wrought upon her once-enemy. “Can we talk?”

“About?”

“What happened before.”

Regina purses her lips, “Let me make some things clear for you, Miss Swan. What you did with your magic did not hurt me, it healed me. What you did with your magic was not malicious and nor was it damaging. In time, it’ll become quite apparent, I assure you.”

Emma panics. “Apparent? What did I _do?_ ”

“Nothing that wasn’t already going to happen,” Regina says, meeting her gaze squarely. Emma tries to understand what she’s telling her.

 _Nothing that wasn’t already going to happen? What does that…_ Emma’s eyes widen. _Lucy. The future. Regina-_

“Oh my god, I-”

Regina steps forwards, putting a finger over her lips, glaring. “This is Neverland. We don’t know who’s watching.”

“This is kind of important,” Emma says from behind Regina’s finger, muffled only slightly. Regina sighs, before stepping away from her. “Regina, wait.” Emma steps towards her, taking her hand. “What does this mean for us?”

“What it meant when Lucy told us the first time,” Regina replies. “We co-parent Henry. We co-parent Lucy, too.”

“This is unbelievable,” Emma mutters. “This is insane…Lucy told me. She even _told_ me that two women could have children.”

“She’s unlucky to have such an obtuse mother,” Regina barks. Emma gives her an unimpressed look. Regina looks at Emma balefully. “With what you just did, you’d better act nicer.”

Emma huffs, but doesn’t disagree. “Any chance of a reward for good behaviour?”

“You’re not a dog, but even then, no.” Regina states haughtily, but she squeezes Emma’s hand. Their gazes still connected, Emma sees the fear in them, the worry and the panic.

“I won’t leave you alone with this,” she promises.

“You’d better not,” Regina murmurs, before Hook yells for them all, staggering out of the woods. “What happened?”

Hook looks like he’s just come back from the men’s room, half-dressed. Shirt untucked and his belt swinging loose, he breathes raggedly.

“Pan. Pan, he- he cornered me while I was doing my business. Threatened my privates, telling me to give you both a message,” he looks between Regina and Emma, wide-eyed. “Either we can choose to save Baelfire or we can choose to save Lucy. He’s got them both, Bae in the Echo Cave and Lucy on the far side of the island, hidden in one of his many hideouts.”

“How are we supposed to choose between them?” Regina questions, full of scorn.

“We have to go after Neal,” Emma says, wincing at Regina’s fiery glare. “Lucy’s going to exist now. She’s not erased herself. But we can’t take the chance that going after her means Neal dies.”

“He’s not meant to die, yet,” Regina mutters bitterly, before shaking her head. “That’s why we should split up.”

“And what, lass? Split me in half?” Hook questions. “I can only guide you to one location. Lucy already said she can take care of herself.”

“Just because she said it, doesn’t mean it’s true,” Regina snaps. “I’m going after her. I refuse to go looking for Neal.”

“Even if he’s your brother?” Mary-Margaret questions, reminding Emma with a jolt that Regina is Gold’s daughter. _Henry’s aunt,_ she thinks, but the words take like ash. _Henry’s mother,_ she thinks, finding them immensely more comfortable.

“Especially if he’s my brother,” Regina growls. “If he really is my brother, then he’s just as dangerous as me – and don’t forget, he lived here. This is his home turf. No doubt, he’s already quite aware of his situation and is formulating a plan to escape Pan’s clutches.”

“If Lucy weren’t here, would you go after him with us?”

“No,” Regina scowls at Emma. “Because Lucy was the one who told us he was alive. If she hadn’t, Pan would have held it over our heads for this exact moment, when we’d have to see whether or not he was lying. I want to find my son and my daughter – excuse me if I don’t want to search for grown adult.”

Emma wants to bring up how Lucy is an adult, how she apparently has a kid and a wife back home, more stable than Neal ever was. She doesn’t, though, because Regina’s right.

“You wouldn’t come search with us if Lucy weren’t here,” Emma agrees. “If we give you the map of Neverland-”

“Yes,” Regina nods, before pursing her lips. “Don’t die, Miss Swan.”

“Call me Emma,” she invites.

“Emma,” Regina repeats. “Good luck on releasing Baelfire.”

“Good luck on releasing Lucy – but let’s do this right,” Emma breathes in deeply. “We need a game plan and I _really_ need to be taught how to control my magic.”

“No kidding,” Regina replies, eyes darkening. “Night is falling. We’ll practice this evening and in the morning, we’ll part ways.”

Stomach lurching, Emma nods in agreement and then, she learns how to light a fire.

* * *

“You can’t see the future here.” Pan comes out of the jungle, swaggering and righteous. “It’s impossible to see the future in a place where time stands still.”

“I may not see the future here, but I can make one happen,” Rumple says, getting up off his rock even as his he worries over both his own fate and that of his granddaughter. _I have failed you, Regina._

“Is that a threat?” Pan questions, “And here I made you your favourite breakfast – eggs in a basket.” He motions to the fire and there they are: two eggs in a basket. Rumple steps back, uneasy. “I thought you could use it. You look a little down in the dumps.”

“I’m fine…” Rumple replies.

“Sure you are, Rumple,” Pan walks around, smiling. “You’ve lost your son, Neal.”

“No, I have not.”

Pan pauses. “And here I thought it was only the merry band of heroes who knew. Ah well, my message is still the same. Neal is alive and I’ve captured him. You’ll find him on the far side of the island.”

Raising his chin, Rumple narrows his eyes. “That’s it? You’re just going to tell me where he is?”

Pan grins. “Oh no, you have to make a choice. For you see, dear Lucy is in the Echo Cave. So much potential – proof of a future that I will erase.”

“What if I go find them both?” Rumple questions.

“That’s not how the game works, dearie,” Pan shakes his head. “You can only pick one – and I recommend you choose Baelfire, because the Charmings, Hook and their Saviour are unknowingly heading towards Lucy.”

“Unknowingly?” Rumple points out, wondering where Regina is in this.

“I may have played a little game of bait and switch,” Pan smiles. “Your daughter heads for her brother – and oh, wasn’t that an interesting piece of trivia, when I touched her. All that familiar _darkness_ that has infected you flows through her veins. She’s _soaked_ in death and despair. What a good father you made, Rumplestiltskin.”

Guilt manifests in his gut, gnawing at him. _He’s right._

“A granddaughter.” Pan sighs, “My family grows every day. To think, that in the future, _your_ granddaughter is a mother. Yet another generation swamped with _domesticity._ ”

“Lucy is a mother?” Rumple questions, not having known.

“It’s unimportant, in the long run,” Pan shakes his head. “Make your choice, Rumple. Will you go rescue Baelfire from the Lost Boys or Lucy, from the Echo Cave?”

He disappears, leaving Rumple behind with many questions and a digging need to heal his relationship with Regina. Growling at his own weakness, making a split-second decision, Rumple goes to journey further into the Jungle, to the far side of the island where Baelfire is being kept.

 _Lucy can take care of herself and the Charmings will find her,_ he thinks, before hearing Belle’s voice behind him.

“You didn’t even pause.”

Rumple stops. “Did I stop at any point in the last three hundred years, trying to find him? I won’t stop now, just to rescue my granddaughter with others. Only Regina is coming this way and even then, she thinks she’s searching for Lucy.”

“Why not let her go on her own? Why not let her grow and discover Pan’s cruelty?” Belle questions.

Rumple turns slightly, looking at her nervously. “I want to keep her safe. She is my _daughter_ , Belle and I wish you were real, so I could get true advice on what to do about that. How do I act? How do I act with her, now we both know that we’re family?”

“How can you say I’m not real?” Belle asks from her place, perched up on the stone. “I’m _here_ , Rumple. _I’m_ family. Come with me, home to Storybrooke.”

“And what, just…leave Henry behind? Leave Bae, Regina and Lucy?” Rumple questions, incredulous.

“It’s what I want, just come home, Rumple,” she pleads, still smiling placidly. “Come start a new family with me. Our own family. That’s what I want – don’t you?”

Rumple starts, pointing at her, shaking his head. “No, you…you can’t want anything. You’re a figment of my self-conscious.”

Belle shakes her head, getting up, coming close to him. “No, no, I’m really here. Take my hand. Believe in our love and we can go back.” She reaches up, hand resting on his cheek. It feels _so real_ and Rumple is tempted to take her hand, to see if he’s really so mad now that he can touch his creations, if not to go back to Storybrooke.

“Take it, Rumple, please. Come home to me,” Belle pleads, before Belle starts to choke. Rumple stares, eyes wide.

“Enough of this,” Regina comes out of the bush suddenly, hand raised in a familiar choke-hold.

“Regina!” Rumple exclaims, coming to her side.

“Are you really going to fall for this?” Regina questions, before Belle chokes out words.

“Rumple, st- stop her.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Regina says, confusing Rumple even more.

“What are you doing?” he questions, watching Belle choke. He reaches to push her hand down, to stop her from casting her magic, but Regina stays on track.

“Showing you the truth.” They watch Belle fall and Rumple calls _no_ , Regina holding him back from running to her. “Look who you’re really dealing with.”

Belle falls to the ground and then smoke surrounds her- no, _shadow._ The Shadow. It flies up and Rumple stumbles back, unable to believe he’d been deceived so.

“Pan,” he whispers as it flies up into the trees.

“What is this, amateur hour?” Regina demands. “Did you really believe _that_ was Belle?”

“Why are you here?” Rumple cuts in. “Pan said you were going after Lucy.”

“Well, for starters, it appears I’m saving your ass,” Regina says, before crossing her arms. “And yes, I’m going after Lucy.”

“Too bad he lied to you,” Rumple replies. “Bait – and switch. While you think you are going after Lucy, in fact, you are going after Baelfire.”

“No,” Regina immediately denies.

“Yes,” Rumple smirks slightly. “He offered me the same choice you did, to either go after my son or granddaughter. I chose my son, because the rest of your little group are after my granddaughter.”

“No,” Regina repeats, more to herself. “No, this isn’t right.”

“This is Neverland,” Rumple replies. “Lucy will be fine.”

“I know she will. Her existence is certain.”

“Not until she’s conceived,” Rumple reminds her, before pausing as Regina looks away sharply. “Oh. _Well_ , dearie, whatever did happen between you and Miss Swan?”

“She healed me,” Regina snits, defensive.

“And impregnated you,” Rumple looks her up and down, humming. “Well, certainly, I’m not letting you out of my sight now.”

Regina looks to him sharply. “Excuse me?”

Rumple smirks, poking her stomach. “That’s my granddaughter in there. You really think I’m going to give Pan the chance he wants to erase her?”

“I can take care of myself,” she hisses. “Just because you have some misplaced sense of paternal longing-”

“I have been watching over you since you married the King,” Rumple interrupts her. “I would have watched you anyway. At least now, I have a clear reason to other than the fact that you were my apprentice. Now, let’s go. Baelfire awaits.”

Regina huff, but says no more, stomping into the Dark Jungle.

* * *

Travelling with Rumplestiltskin is by far, better than with the Charmings. For one, she doesn’t have to deal with their insipid romance. Second of all, Rumple actually allows her to use magic without reprimand.

“Why that makes you so happy, I don’t know,” he mutters

“I’ve been camping with the Charmings for a week, now,” Regina replies. “If you don’t think getting away from them makes me happy, _papa_ , then you don’t know me at all.”

“Are you ever going to call me your father without sarcasm?” he questions, annoyed.

Regina glances at him. “I only just found out. I’m still processing. Give me a break.”

“I found out when I broke Lucy out of her cell,” Rumple replies, clenching his fists. “I keep wishing your mother was still alive so I could kill her all over again.”

“Why?” Regina questions, genuinely curious.

“She kept you from me,” he hisses, using his machete to slash away a bush in their past. “You’re my daughter. Everything about getting to the land without magic, my entire purpose, was to reunite with me son – and you, you were right in front of me and I didn’t see it. Cora hid you from me, lied and said you were Prince Henry’s.”

“What would you have done, if you knew?”

“I had a deal with your mother, to take our firstborn child. I mistakenly fell in love with her, adjusting the deal from a previous incarnation. She deceived me.”

“How? By pretending I wasn’t your shared child?”

“No,” Rumple glances at her, stopping in place. “It seems Neverland is a place of truth. Before your mother married your father, she had another daughter, who she gave up. Her name was Zelena.”

Regina staggers slightly, “ _What?_ ”

“I trained her, like I did you,” he says. “Only she was _green_ with envy, misunderstanding your life as queen with King Leopold.”

She flinches. “So, I have a sister. Any more bombshells?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Rumple says and- and he sounds _amused_ at her predicament. Hitting his arm, Regina glares.

“Tell me. What else, Rumple?”

“…my father is on the island. Your grandfather. His name is Malcolm, but he goes by the pseudonym, _Peter Pan._ ”


	7. Chapter 7

Lucy finishes the last of the bread in the same moment she hears footsteps coming from the entrance. Chewing furiously, she shifts inside her cage, ignoring how the bamboo hurts her knees as she looks out over to the opening.

From it emerges Emma, her grandparents and Killian. “Mom!” she calls.

“Lucy?” Emma questions, shouting. “Where’s Neal?”

“I took his place in the Echo Cave. I’m sorry, I don’t know where he is!” Lucy calls across the chasm, hearing her own voice echoing back at her.

She hears them speaking, but it’s too quiet, any echoes the walls pick up garbled and strange. She watches them, trying to remember what each of them was supposed to say. _Grandma goes on about wanting another baby and Grandpa was **supposed** to tell her he can’t leave the island. Mom is supposed to admit to Neal she had hoped he was dead and Killian, that kissing my mom made him realise he can move on from Milah and find love again._

Everything has changed though. No doubt, her grandmother’s wish was the only one that wouldn’t change. _Are there enough secrets to save me?_

Watching them from afar, Lucy sees Killian step up, speaking directly at her. He raises his voice and she hears him, eyes widening as she does.

“For hundreds of years, I have been so focused on my revenge, that hearing you say I’m to have a son and a loving partner made me realise I can move on. I will not kill the Dark One – I will make a family, out of the people around me. I thank you for that. Lucy Mills, you gave me hope again.”

A rumbling takes over the cavern and Lucy lets out a surprised laugh as a third of the bridge grows from stone.

“Your welcome!” she calls back to him, seeing his smile and bow as he steps back. Lucy watches them speak, hearing her grandmother say she wants another baby. The cavern rumbles again and the bridge nearly completes itself.

* * *

“Your turn, Your Highness,” Hook says to David, once he finishes kissing Mary-Margaret. Slightly grossed out by their PDA, Emma looks away, wondering what the hell her secret could be.

 _Is it about Neal? That I still love him?_ Emma swallows, focusing on Lucy. Lucy, her time travelling daughter from the future – who had already been accidentally conceived. She can hardly believe it, but everything seems possible with magic.

 _Regina doesn’t seem scared,_ she thinks, before her parents finally stop making out.

“So, your secret, Prince David?” Hook prods.

David glances at Mary-Margaret, frowning. “I…I don’t have much I regret. The only thing I can think of…” he keeps looking at his wife, her eyes widening quickly.

“No! You can’t tell!”

“Snow, this is our granddaughter,” David insists, holding her tightly. “We have to do all we can.”

“But…”

Mary-Margaret trails off as David looks to Emma, catching her off-guard. “When your mother was still pregnant with you, we saw your potential for darkness. It terrified us and the Apprentice agreed to help us.”

“Maleficent was protecting an egg,” Mary-Margaret murmurs and it takes a moment for Emma to realise what she means.

“Wait, a _dragon_ egg?”

“The Apprentice said he could switch your potential for darkness with Maleficent’s child’s potential for light,” David says. “But we didn’t know that he meant to send the egg through a portal. When we took the egg, Snow promised to return them to their mother, but we couldn’t.”

Emma takes a step back, much like Hook, who looks at them in disgust. “You traded a dark fate of your daughters for the life of another child? An _unborn child?_ ” Hook glares at them and Emma feels like she’s going to be sick.

“No,” David replies, clutching Mary-Margaret tightly. “As the portal opened, the egg started to hatch. It wasn’t a dragon. It was a baby. They fell through before we could save them, taking Cruella and Ursula with them. We can only hope that they had enough compassion in their hearts to save the child – but yes, we traded Emma’s potential dark future for the banishment of a baby to another realm and I don’t regret it.”

The cavern rumbles, the bridge finally connecting from the pillar to the entrance. But Emma, feeling sick that her parents would do such a horrible thing, feels sick. She barely keeps her balance and Hook is the one to keep her upright.

“Emma-” Mary-Margaret starts, but Emma shakes her head.

“No. Don’t talk to me. No wonder you make so many enemies, taking away their happy endings,” she says, before forcing herself upright, going across the bridge. She thinks of Regina and her dead lover – of Maleficent and her stolen child.

“What happened?” Lucy questions as she approaches, crouching in front of her bamboo cage. “What’s the matter? What did grandpa say?”

“Don’t call him that,” Emma says, still feeling sick. “He doesn’t deserve that title right now. Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That he- _they_ transferred my potential for darkness to a helpless child?”

Lucy’s eyes widen, breathing out her answer. “Aunt Lily.”

Emma stiffens. “What?”

“Aunt Lily,” Lucy repeats. “Your Lily, with a star on her wrist – Maleficent and Killian’s daughter.”

“Who?” Emma questions.

“Hook,” Lucy says and for a moment, Emma just stares. Then, she stands up straight, taking out her sword to bang against the cage. “What are you doing?” her daughter exclaims. “You know the rules – it won’t open unless you tell a truth, Mom!”

Emma stops banging the cage. “It was worth a try,” she says, sheathing her sword again. Crouching again, then kneeling, Emma reaches through the bars to take Lucy’s hands. “I’m terrified, kid, about Regina having you.”

“Really?” Lucy questions, a light flickering in her eye, like there’s something Emma doesn’t know. Narrowing her eyes, Emma continues, watching her carefully.

“Yeah, really. She’s-” Emma wants to say _already pregnant_ , but Pan is most likely listening. _It’s too dangerous to say._ “Regina,” she instead tries a different route, “when she has you, it’ll be because of me. It’s kind of strange, thinking about being the dad in this situation, especially with Regina.’

‘But it’s going to happen,” she continues. “I don’t know how Regina and I are going to do it together. We’re barely friends and you’re going to grow; you’re going to be a proper, tiny baby and I was _not_ ready to be a mother when I had Henry and I’m still not sure I am now. What if I drop you? What if I do something to hurt you and Regina kills me in retaliation?”

“You won’t be dropping me,” Lucy says, squeezing her hands.

“I’m going to drop you at least once, that’s just how I am. I’ll forget you’re in my arms, or something.” Emma pulls in a shuddering breath, closing her eyes. “I’m not ready. I don’t _want_ another child.”

There’s a silence and when Emma opens her eyes, the cage door has melted away. Lucy stares at her, wordless.

“Come here, kid,” Emma mutters, before pulling her out of the cage. Lucy follows, not saying a word as Emma checks her over. Unlike the rest of them, she never had a change of clothes and it shows, her jacket covered in dust and the skirt of her dress ripped, feet covered in dirt.

“You really don’t want me?” Lucy questions finally, when they’re about to make their way across the bridge again. Emma swallows, before shaking her head. “Will you?”

“It’s complicated to explain how I feel about it, kid,” Emma says quietly, voice strained. “I have Henry. That’s more than enough kid than I was ever prepared for. Knowing for certain that I’m going to have another kid and that I’m going to _keep_ her is terrifying.”

“But you don’t _want_ me,” Lucy clutches herself, looking for all like the world had been swept out from under her feet.

“You’re beautiful, amazing,” Emma says, reaching over to take her arms, looking down at her with a franticness she’d only ever felt with Henry, whenever he was in danger. “I already love you _so_ much, but I never expected this. I’m not in a relationship with Regina, our son is in the clutches of a madman and _you_ – you pop into our lives and talk about a future, like it’s there and solid.”

Then, like a miracle, Lucy looks more like she understands. She looks at Emma with slow realisation, whispering, “If Mia had come to see me, before I had her, I’d be scared out of my mind.”

“Right,” Emma breaths heavily in relief before encasing her in a tight hug. Lucy doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate. She can feel the magic under her skin – like a lightning storm and strangely weak. _That’s the thing with her cousin,_ Emma remembers. _Giving up her magic for Elphaba’s invention to work._

“Where’s my other mom?” Lucy eventually asks, voice muffled in Emma’s shirt.

“Neal wasn’t here, you were instead – so she’s probably rescuing him.”

“She’ll be with granddad,” Lucy says.

“Right,” Emma shakes her head, before they part, walking along the bridge again. On the other side, she ignores her parents, instead turning to Hook. “Hey, so apparently, that kid my parents fucked over is your daughter.”

Hook looks to Lucy sharply. “Explain, _now_.”

“You slept with Maleficent a hundred years ago, or something. Dragons live thousands of years. It takes a little time to gestate. You’re lucky to be alive during her lifetime,” Lucy replies, flooring Hook, who steps back to lean on a boulder before setting his eyes on the Charmings.

“You- you stole _my_ daughter and banished her to another realm. I’ll finish you, I’ll rip your throats out with my hook-” he yells, before both Emma and Lucy have to leap forwards to stop him from lunging at them.

“They’re not worth it,” Emma impresses on him. “Lily’s fine, Hook. We were friends, growing up. She’s _fine._ ”

“Friends?” Hook goes slack, looking at her with incredulous disbelief.

“Yeah, now stop trying to attack them and lead us the hell out of here. We need to get out of here, before Pan sends in his goons.”

Emma manages to convince Hook to lead them out, allowing the slowness of pace as he tries to turn it all over in his head. _I certainly know about being blindsided by your kid’s existence, twice over,_ Emma thinks, remembering when Henry knocked on her door and said _I’m Henry. I’m your son._

“When this is all over,” Emma mutters to Lily, “I am having your brother write out his damn family tree, just to see him insult someone by failing to add them.”

“That’s way harsh, Mom,” Lucy replies, but she laughs anyway.

* * *

_I am not a benevolent imp,_ Rumple thinks as they wait for Ariel to return. Baelfire sleeps on the ground against a tree trunk, snoring gently, exhausted from having to run from Lost Boys for the last day and a half. Seeing Regina’s glances at him, he wonders if she’s nervous – he would be, if he found out he had a surprise sibling.

“What is it?” Regina questions, catching him looking.

“Do you want to tell him?” Rumple questions. “You do have the right not to tell him, but it’ll come up eventually.”

Regina glances at Bae on the ground, frowning. “It’s strange. His son is _my_ son. It’s a double-edged sword. Getting to know him as…as we are, gives him a different sort of leverage over Henry than if I told him.”

“Well-”

“Told me what?” Bae then questions, opening his eyes. Regina startles, stepping back and almost falling – only _not_ because of how Bae reaches out, grabbing her coat. She regains her balance, but he doesn’t let go for a few moments longer, raising his eyebrow at her.

Rumple then feels severe déjà vu as Regina copies him, identical expressions on their faces.

“Would you like me to break the happy news, dearie?” he questions.

“Is it happy?” Bae glances at him, finally letting go of Regina’s jacket to stand, looking between them.

“Regina’s mother was a crooked, evil witch who pretended to renege on our biggest deal.”

“That’s an odd way to say she didn’t give you what you wanted,” Bae frowns. “What did she lie about?”

“Who my father is,” Regina admits reluctantly. Bae’s frown deepens and he looks between them both a few more times before freezing, staring at Regina. She fidgets, crossing her arms defensively.

“You…” Bae points at her, then looks at Rumple. “You slept with her mother?”

“What?” Rumple replies, “You think I was a monk for three hundred years? Cora might have been the only one to sneak into my heart – and break it, I might add – but she wasn’t the only woman I fucked.”

“Eloquent as ever, Gold,” Regina mutters.

“You’re my sister,” Baelfire looks at her. “I have a sister. I honestly didn’t expect that.”

“Don’t get sappy on me,” Regina snaps at him, glaring. “Just because you’re my brother doesn’t mean anything will change.”

“Except most of Papa’s magic,” Bae points out. “Blood magic is a speciality of his. If he wanted anything to be hidden that way, you could break it. It’s what I did, to get here.”

“How _did_ you get here?” Rumple asks at the reminder.

“I caught a ride with the Shadow, after ending up in the Enchanted Forest. Princess Aurora, Prince Phillip and Mulan helped me – Mulan even accompanied me to your castle, Papa.” Bae explains, “Nearly got shot by Robin Hood. He and his Merry Men are squatting in your castle, by the way.”

“Really?” Rumple grimaces, annoyed at the thought of peasants hiding out in his home.

“Yeah, but Robin said they’d leave if you showed up again – and the favour he owes you? Paid,” Bae shrugs, before sitting on the tree trunk he’d been sleeping against. “By the way, I opened up your secret cabinet in your dining room.”

“And did you close it again?” Rumple questions, bristling as Bae hesitates, before shaking his head. “Magnificent. If we ever end up in the Enchanted Forest again, my home will have been thoroughly gutted of magical objects of significance.”

“Sorry, Papa.”

Rumple grumbles, mainly to himself. There weren’t a lot of _very_ powerful objects in that cabinet, but they were useful ones. He’s more impressed that Bae could find and use the things inside – that he _would_ , what with his magic-hating past. Rumple remembers when he was young, being disgusted by Rumple’s use of his power.

 _Maybe it is **how** and not **what** , _Rumple realises with a start, before Regina questions him, sitting down beside her brother.

“Do you really think Belle can succeed?”

“Yes,” Rumple replies. “I do.”

“Are you sure it’s not your feelings blinding you?” she questions, delicate yet crass. Rumple gives her a withering look.

“Or perhaps it’s my feelings illuminating me.”

Regina tilts her head, “You really love her.”

“Papa can love people, I think he proved that with me, sis,” Bae says, before looping an arm around her shoulders. Regina gives her brother a disgusted look as he continues. “The _real_ question is, does it count as cradle-robbing?”

“If it does, we’re all guilty of that,” Regina replies, before trying and failing to wriggle out of his grasp. “Let go of me!”

“Never, baby sis,” Bae grins, ignoring Regina’s annoyed huff. “How are you a cradle-robber, then?”

Then, of course, Regina hesitates, glancing at Rumple, who’s amused smile leaves his face as he realises his daughter’s dilemma. _Emma Swan,_ he thinks, _stealing both my children._

“What’s up?” Bae frowns, unaware of the situation.

“Perhaps,” Rumple says, feeling the magic of a portal forming, “that question can wait to be answered. We have company.”

In the river, Ariel reappears and they make their way over to her. “Sorry I’m late. We ran into a few…complications.”

“Did you get it?” Rumple questions, going forth as Ariel removes Pandora’s Box from her satchel.

“Excellent,” Regina states as he picks the Box up. “You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain.” She waves her hand, enchanting Ariel’s bracelet. “There. Now you can have legs whenever you want. Or a fin. Whatever Eric’s into these days.”

“Thank-you.”

Rumple captures the mermaids attention. _Never be said that I’d stand in the way of True Love._ “When you return to Storybrooke, seek him out. The rest is up to you.”

“Before I go,” Ariel starts, “Belle wanted me to let you know that Pan has a prisoner on this island – a girl named Wendy. Her brothers are back in Storybrooke. Belle doesn’t want to let them down. She wants you to make sure that Wendy’s okay.”

“All that matters is Henry,” Regina says, sounding only the slightest bit concerned, shaking her head.

“And now you have a chance to save him, thanks to me and Belle,” Ariel says, glaring. _She’s got spine._ “So rescuing that girl is the least that you can do.”

“Wait, Wendy as in, John and Michael Darling, Wendy?” Bae questions, “She’s _here?_ ”

“Do you know them?” Rumple frowns at his son.

Bae tilts his head. “They helped me out, after I appeared in their realm as a boy. Nineteenth century London was barely any better than the Enchanted Forest.”

“At least there was plumbing,” Regina snorts, before Rumple looks to Ariel.

“We’ll do our best,” he promises, before clearing his throat, avoiding looking at his children. “Look. When you return…tell Belle I love her and that she was right. I _will_ see her again.”

Ariel nods and then, the mermaid is gone.

* * *

Staring up at unfamiliar stars, Emma takes the moment to wonder what Henry is doing – if he’s looking up at the same stars she is, if Pan had converted him into one of his Lost Boys. Lucy’s hands in her hair pull and tug gently, braiding it back in fancy braids, reminding her of a foster-sister she used to have when she was eight.

“So, what? Is it a French braid? Fishtail?”

“I’m doing double-sided Dutch braids into a ponytail,” Lucy replies, as if that’s supposed to make sense to Emma.

“Are you a hair stylist, in the future?”

“I work in the local hair-dresser, part-time. I do private hair and make-up, as well, usually for weddings,” Lucy replies, before Emma feels a giant tug of her hair being pulled through a band. “There you go. Pretty princess.”

Emma reaches back, feeling along the braids on either side of her head, leading into a ponytail. _Huh. That didn’t take long. I suppose practice makes perfect._

“I’m sheriff,” Emma offers, before realising she probably already knows. Admirably, though, Lucy asks what it’s like. “Not boring. Then really boring. I shift between paperwork, chasing Mrs Ginger’s cat and stopping big bads like Pan. David’s my deputy.”

“Really?” Lucy questions, sounding like she hadn’t known that before. Emma looks at her, watching as she moves to sit close beside her, closer than she’d let anyone, usually.

“Yeah. I’ve got Ruby, part-time, but Granny keeps her busy,” Emma answers, about to tell her about the time that she got hit over the head with a garden gnome, when Regina comes out of the treeline. Shooting to her feet, she almost misses how Gold and Neal come out behind her.

“Emma,” Neal starts, smiling. Emma freezes, staring at him as he comes forwards, stopping a few feet away as Lucy gets up. “Hi. Who are you?”

“Your niece,” she answers, sounding excited. “You’re Baelfire. I haven’t seen you in _years._ ”

Neal raises an interested eyebrow, even as Emma notices how Gold’s eyes snap to Lucy.

“Really? Have we met before?”

“Sort of – we will, in the future. I’m a time traveller. I knew you when I was really young.”

“Oh,” Neal says, taken-aback. He glances at Regina, “You have a kid in the future?”

“Having, right now,” she corrects, making Emma’s stomach lurch.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about that? Pan having eyes…”

Regina looks at Emma, past Lucy’s head. “We’ve got a solution to defeating Pan.”

“Well, let’s hear it,” Emma encourages, before looking over to her sleeping parents, about to wake them with a call of their names when she hesitates. Instead, she looks to Hook, across the camp, who refused to let her parents take the next watch together and watch over them. “Quietly.”

“What happened, now?” Regina mutters.

“We released Lucy from the Echo Cave. David’s truth was a bit too much to handle,” Emma said, tense. “I’ll tell you later.”

“And us?” Gold questions, coming to stand by his son. “Are we being left out?”

“No, I just…” Emma sighs, rubbing her eyes. “It’s been a long day.” She feels Lucy take her hand briefly, squeezing gently. Emma returns the gesture before sighing again. “Luce, would you wake them, please?”

“I’m going to spark them up,” Lucy immediately says, going over to where they’re lying. Emma in turn goes to Hook, calling his name. Funnily enough, however, it’s her parents’ yelps that wake him from the small electric shocks Lucy gives them.

“Okay, now I _really_ want to know what happened,” Regina says, laughing slightly.

“It’s not a happy tale, Your Majesty,” Hook states as they all gather around the fire, sitting down on the tree-trunks set up for this purpose. “Bae, it’s good to see you.”

“And you, Hook,” Neal says, expression conflicted. “Didn’t think you’d ever work with my papa.”

“Things change,” he says, before Emma interrupts.

“Regina, you said you had a solution.”

“That we do,” Gold says, before holding up a small, engraved box with a ruby on its top. “Pandora’s Box. Currently empty, it is one of the few things with power enough to hold Pan.”

“So, we trap him,” Emma confirms, before looking to Neal. “After, we need to escape. Do you have a way off Neverland?”

“If we find Henry, I can get us off this island,” Neal confirms.

“But _how?_ ” Regina questions.

“I’d have thought you’d have guessed, by now. I got here with the Shadow’s help and we’ll all leave again the same way.”

“The Shadow _helped_ you?” Hook starts in disbelief.

“I have a way to trap it, it’s at my old hide-out.”

“Oh, we thought you learned how to navigate the stars,” David puts in.

“I know how to navigate the stars,” Neal says, “but I can’t fly.”

“I’m guessing that’s where the Shadow comes in,” Mary-Margaret then feels the need to add. Emma tries not to look at them, knowing how Lily lived her life, all alone and depressed to hell – living through one bad thing after another.

“You, shut it,” Hook orders, seeming like he shares her sentiments.

“Hey, don’t tell my wife-” David starts to argue, before Hook cuts in.

“I’ll tell your wife to do whatever the bloody hell I like and you, too, until I see my daughter safe and sound. You got that, mate? You’re the villains, right now. Learn to do what you’re told.”

“Daughter?” Regina questions, “You have a daughter.”

“Yeah, he does,” Emma replies coldly. “With Maleficent.”

“Mal doesn’t have a child,” Regina replies, sounding uneasy. She looks to Mary-Margaret and David, to Hook, then back to the couple. Her lip curls. “I see.”

“It was what we had to do,” David says, as if it were some noble act, before Emma decides she’s had enough.

“Stop. Right now, we’re here for Henry. Focus on that. Hook, when we get back to Storybrooke, I’ll gladly track her down for you. She was my friend, once upon a time.”

“She will be again,” Lucy murmurs, but Emma only spares her a brief glance, thinking. _I somehow doubt that._


	8. Chapter 8

Baelfire goes with David, Snow and Hook to his old hide-out to retrieve his coconut-trap, intent on going to Dark Hollow afterwards to capture the Shadow.

“I’ve got my lighter, I’ll be fine,” he says when Rumple offers to come with, rain falling from the sky to soak half their cohort.

Regina, exhausted, doesn’t hesitate before getting into a tent to sleep, ignoring the ‘Stiltskin’s and getting out of the rain. She shuts her eyes, feeling the draw to unconsciousness, but then a whisper comes from the tent mouth.

“Regina,” Emma gets her attention. “Regina, I was wondering if we could…share, again.”

Opening a single eye, Regina purses her lips at the blonde, before shuffling out of the middle of the wide pallet. Emma comes in, going to lie down, but Regina immediately protests on feeling her wet turtle-neck.

“No, no, get _dry_ first, then join me,” she thwacks Emma on the ribs, grimacing at the dampness it leaves on her hand.

“This is my only spare shirt.”

“Take it off, unless you want to leave this tent,” she says imperiously, not quite expecting Emma to raise her eyebrow.

“We’ll have to shut the tent-flaps.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not getting shirtless for anyone out there,” she replies and immediately, Regina flushes. “Do you mind?”

“You’ll probably be warmer, for it,” Regina says diplomatically, using magic to unroll the tent-flaps, the ties coming together. Emma looks at the entrance amusedly, before curling in on herself as she sits up, taking off her shirt.

Unable to look away – and not quite wanting to – Regina checks Emma out, finding herself slightly impressed by the muscle definition of her arms and back, not to mention her stomach. On seeing her looking, Emma grins proudly.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes,” Regina says simply, before Emma lays down, just like the last time. Only, this time, their tent is closed off and Emma’s shirtless.

_And I’m pregnant._

The magic inside her is distinct and Regina would have to be a moron if she didn’t know what it was. In truth, there’s still a short time period before it’ll stick properly. Regina has to force herself not to think about how it’s possible, refusing to acknowledge the only recorded data concurrent with their situation. However, Emma healing her like she did and then just, _unknowingly_ creating life inside her, makes Regina feel slightly in awe.

Magic like that – instinctive, liberating, healing magic – is rare. It might be because Emma’s a child of True Love, but maybe it’s because Emma is simply special, all on her own, Saviour status withstanding.

Lacking in conversation starters, Regina questions. “How are you?”

“Tired,” Emma replies, before reaching out tentatively. Already uncomfortable from putting so much space between them already, Regina speeds up the process, pushing up against her and curling one of her arms around her bare waist. “Right. You must be, too,” she says, practically squeaking, for how high her voice is.

“Indeed,” Regina says, their faces so close, their noses brushing. _I could kiss her. She could kiss me._

They have such an unusual relationship – unbalanced, yet Regina has power and sway in ways no-one else has over Emma Swan. She’s Henry’s mother and Lucy’s, too. She’s Emma’s teacher, as well, even if they’ve only done little magic practice. Emma is the Saviour, pegged to break her Curse, something she did. It’s hard to think that less than a year ago, Regina was trying to kick Emma out of town.

It takes her by surprise, when Emma presses her lips to Regina’s. It’s brief, barely a few seconds and Emma makes to get up and leave after they part.

“Don’t you dare,” Regina growls at her as she does. _Emma’s not allowed to kiss me first. I had the idea before she did._ Emma, with her wide eyes, lets herself be dragged down. Their lips brush and there’s a clash of teeth, before Emma moves her arms, holding herself up, angling herself over Regina as tongues come into play.

Emma tugs at her lip and Regina reaches up for her hair, digging into the perfect braids their daughter had woven in. It’s a back and forth, every move countered by the other until exhaustion and burning limbs causes Regina to drop her arms, fingers untangling from Emma’s hair.

Their mouths unlock from each others and they stare at each other for a while, breathing heavily. Regina feels her heart race in her chest, before Emma lays down beside her, arms wrapping around her. It’s almost strange to go from kissing like their lives depended on it to close, comforting contact. Regina stares at the roof of the tent, realising that the rain had stopped at some point – or at least, it had died down some.

_I’ve got an affinity for storms, as it happens._

A short laugh escapes her, Emma mumbling. “What? Surprised I’m so good?”

“No, no – I just realised that Lucy was playing matchmaker,” Regina explains quietly. “She can control the weather, to a degree. Each time we’ve shared a tent, it’s been raining.”

Emma’s silent for a few moments, before she replies wryly. “Funny. I thought it was the kids job to be a cockblock, not an enabler.”

“Henry is the cockblocker,” Regina clarifies. “I would know – partners of mine have had to hide under my bed enough times when he came wandering in.”

“I knew it,” Emma mutters. “What if she isn’t matchmaking? What if you’re just saying that to have an excuse to bunk with me when it rains?”

“I assure you, Miss Swan,” Regina replies scornfully, “this has been prearranged.”

“Well…good. Making out with you was fun and you keep me warm, at night,” Emma says, eventually. It makes Regina frown, something Emma sees. She sighs tiredly. “Do I not have any redeemable qualities, Regina? None at all?”

“No, you- you do,” Regina replies. “You’re a fairly adequate bed-partner, Miss Swan.”

“I told you already, call me Emma.”

“ _Emma,_ ” Regina repeats, before bringing one of her hands up, giving into an urge to trace Emma’s jaw with her thumb. It shifts to her lip, eventually. _She’s beautiful,_ Regina thinks, refusing to deny it. _It could be nice, good. If I had a relationship with the mother of my children…god, that sounds so cliché._

Nevertheless, Regina decides it’s in her best interests, kissing her gently. Emma hesitates to reciprocate for a few moments, before kissing her in turn. The exchange progresses, but it’s nothing short of gentle – something that Regina had not felt in a long, long, _long_ time.

_This is what it was like with Daniel,_ she thinks, feeling a flutter in her heart. It scares her and she pulls away. Emma takes a moment to orient herself, before speaking.

“Are you alright?”

“I,” Regina hesitates, barely able to see Emma in the dark, the fire outside no longer casting a red glow over their tent. “Whatever happens here, in Neverland, can we…can we leave discussing it until we return to Storybrooke? Until we have Henry back?”

“I think…I think that’s fine. Sure. Test whatever _this_ is…out.” Emma holds her tighter and Regina ducks her head, taking the easy way out. There is no more talk and eventually, they both slip into slumber, only to awaken when the canvas of their tent-flaps is opened, a stream of sunlight slipping through to land directly on Regina’s face.

“Who is it?” she winces, hiding her eyes behind her hand.

“It’s me, Regina,” Tinkerbell says, sounding slightly surprised. “Lunch is up. We’ll be heading to Pan’s camp after everyone’s eaten.”

“Lunch?” Regina questions, untangling herself from Emma, but only managing to wake her up properly.

“Food,” Emma mutters, sniffing. “Food?”

“Get a shirt on first, Emma,” Tinkerbell recommends, amusement filtering through her voice before she buttons the tent-flaps back together. Regina looks around, awkwardly reaching for Emma’s shirt as the woman stays lying down.

“Morning.”

“Afternoon, apparently,” Regina murmurs, handing Emma her turtle-neck. The blonde awkwardly sits up, moving down the pallet towards the door for more space. Only once Emma has her shirt on, does Regina use magic to untie the tent-flaps, pinning them back. Emma shuffles out, offering Regina a hand to get to her feet when she follows.

“Thank-you.”

“Anytime,” Emma replies, before they go to join their party around the campfire. As they sit, Regina catches Lucy scrutinising Emma’s hair. The face she makes reveals both her disappointment and her relief.

Changing spots, Regina sits down beside her time-travelling daughter, accepting a slice of roasted hog and sailors biscuit. Casually, she addresses her daughter in a low voice, only Lucy would be able to hear.

“Happy she doesn’t have sex hair?”

Lucy, who had been chewing on her biscuit, chokes slightly, taking a minute to regain herself. Regina, smirking all the while, accepts Lucy’s glare happily.

“Did you wait until I was eating to say that?” the girl accuses.

“No,” Regina says. “If I wanted attention brought to it, maybe, but this is just between you and me. However, on that particular topic, you’ve already been conceived.”

“…what?” Lucy looks at her, wide-eyed. “Are you sure?”

“It’s obvious, when you know what to look for,” Regina says, before raising an eyebrow as Lucy jumps upwards, doing a silent happy dance. “Well. That’s a strange reaction.”

A laugh tumbles out of her mouth, slightly giddy and attracting the attention of those who hadn’t started watching when she danced about in front of the fire.

“I’m older! I _finally_ have the proof, too! We knew that one of us came from around this time and the other from another point, next week, but we never knew _who_.” Lucy grins, but only managing to confuse Regina.

“What in the blazes are you on about?”

“Roni, _Veronique Swan._ I’m the older one! I _knew_ it”” Lucy gushes. “I’m going to hold this over her head for the rest of her natural-born _life_ , Mom, you watch me do it.”

_Veronique Swan_ , Regina thinks, not understanding anything at all about what Lucy just said. _Veronique Swan._

“Wait, I’m going to have a kid?” Emma questions from across the campfire. The time traveller abruptly stops laughing, suddenly freezing.

“Oh. Oh _fuck_. I can’t believe I just did that. Oh my god, I could write her out of existence.” Lucy sits down again, hiding her head in her hands. “How am I going to gloat if she doesn’t exist, Mom?”

“She’ll- she’ll exist,” Regina comforts, looking to Emma for help and getting a panicked look in return. “What’s her name, again?”

“Spoilers,” Lucy says, before falling silent.

“…you know, dearie, you are not good at this time travel malarkey,” Rumple takes the moment to point out the most obvious fact in history.

“Wait, but who’s her father?” Baelfire then decides to ask, practically the entire camp looking at Regina. “…respectably, sis, what the fuck?”

“Emma did it to me first,” Regina says, trying to draw away whatever attention she’s receiving. Thankfully, Bae looks to Emma with a wounded expression, Emma cringing as she explains quite _exactly_ who Lucy is and how, technically, she’s sitting beside herself.

“This…” Bae looks between them, “this is fucked up. You’ve got no choice in this, whatsoever-”

“Fuck off, they had all the chances to stop going in this direction,” Lucy snaps, finally, looking up from her hands angrily at her uncle. “My family drama might be ridiculous, but in the future, forget about right now, my mothers love each other. Right now, in this timeline, Emma and Regina could make the choice to go down a different path and I wouldn’t blame them.”

“No,” Regina immediately says, grabbing her arm. “I am not going to erase you from time.”

“The sentiment is appreciated, Mom,” Lucy mutters, before finishing her lunch.

Tinkerbell clears her throat. “Lucy, is it?”

“Yeah,” Lucy glances at the fairy warily.

“May I ask you some questions, about the future?”

“I can’t promise to answer all of them, or any, but you can ask,” Lucy agrees.

Reseating herself a little, Tinkerbell asks her questions, Regina listening carefully to their conversation.

“How many siblings do you have in the future?”

“Four and counting. Sometimes five, if Ro’s up for it,” Lucy replies.

“Who’s Ro?”

“Roland Hood,” Lucy reveals, to the ‘Stiltskin men’s obvious surprise.

“Really?” Bae questions, “How? I know his mom’s dead, but everything you say implies Regina and Emma are together.”

“Orphans of war,” Lucy replies, setting an unease through Regina. _I- Emma and I, we adopt an orphan?_

“Right,” Tinkerbell says, sounding shaken. “What about the man with the lion tattoo?”

“As I said, Roland’s an orphan,” Lucy says and all at once, Regina feels like she’s been slapped in the face.

“ _What?_ ”

“I can’t say anything more than that, Mom. Everyone dies and Ro was old enough to understand, when it happened.”

Regina wants to ask about the man – about this Robin Hood who had helped Baelfire get to Neverland, her soulmate – but Tinkerbell asks another question.

“Platonic or romantic?”

“Platonic, all the way,” Lucy immediately replies, as if there was no question as to what the fairy was asking about. “Mainly because the romantic one wasn’t born yet – though it’s funny, because, _lion_ tattoos are a theme.”

“Really?” Tinkerbell asks, intrigued and now Regina _knows_ they are talking about her soulmate – soul _mates_. She glances round, seeing some confused faces, only Rumple seemingly keeping track of the conversation. _And he would_.

“Hey,” she starts, interrupting Lucy’s next words. “Do you mind? Perhaps I don’t want my personal business flung about like wet paper.”

“Oh,” Lucy pauses, grimacing. “Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”

“You’re not good at time travel,” she paraphrases Rumple’s words from earlier. “Soulmate-talk is fanservice for Tink.”

“Hey!” said fairy exclaims. “It was a legitimate question!”

“One that clearly violates my privacy, moth,” Regina hisses at her, before Snow stands suddenly.

“I think we should go to Pan’s camp, now, before we either break the space-time continuum or have to break up a cat-fight.”

“It wouldn’t be a cat-fight,” Regina growls. “It’d be extermination.”

Snow glares her down. “Enough, Regina.”

“She has a point,” Rumple rises. “It’s about time we saved my grandson – don’t you agree, Bae, Regina?”

“Yes,” Regina stands, the urge to save Henry rising up inside her like a tiger, snarling and ready. Sweeping her hand, she extinguishes their fire and packs up her and Emma’s tent, leaving the others for their owners to pack up.

“Time to save Henry,” Emma states.

“Pack up camp,” Hook orders as they both stand and there’s a scurry for the remaining to follow. Regina watches Rumple cheat, flicking his wrist to banish belongings to the _Jolly Roger_ and Baelfire tie a makeshift sheath around his waist for his sword.

Beside her, Lucy stands as tall as she can, before a sudden flare of energy has the entire camp on edge. A golden portal appears in the air and Regina raises a fireball, only for Lucy to grab her wrist.

_Lucy came through a golden portal,_ Regina remembers vividly.

“It’s for me,” Lucy says, before two people are thrown out. They roll as they hit the ground and the portal snaps out of existence, a beam of light slamming into Lucy’s chest. She wobbles, slightly, but quickly regains her balance, going over to the two other time travellers.

One is taller than Lucy by a mile with golden-blonde hair, wearing a black pinstripe suit that makes him look like a beanpole. He gets to his feet and immediately locks on Lucy, accepting her running embrace easily.

“I’m so sorry, Luce, I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay Gideon, I’m fine, the timeline’s fine-”

The second figure is of a more average height, black curls framing her face. Her features are sharp and she looks around with narrowed green eyes, twirling a black wand in her left hand. High heels digging into the ground, she’s dressed in a deep blue dress to her knees, lace sleeves to her elbows and a belt tight around her waist.

“Enough touchy-feely nonsense. Get over here and give me a hug, Lucy.”

Lucy ends her hug with Gideon – _didn’t she say it was his fault she travelled through time in the first place? –_ at the sound of the woman’s voice, lunging for her.

“Cody! Oh my god, you’re here! You came back!”

“Not for long, just to get you, sweetheart,” ‘Cody’ states, eyes closing briefly as she embraces Lucy. Regina suddenly feels very out of place, a sudden feeling of embarrassment at how motherly she’d been to Lucy causing her to feel very horrid indeed.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Well, lots of people missed me, apparently. Quite honestly, it’s ridiculous. I’ve already given my baby brother a telling off.”

“I’m older than you,” Gideon states, to Cody’s amusement.

“Really? I’m a time-travelling, realm-hopping mystic. Just because I still _look_ twenty-two, doesn’t mean I actually _am_.”

“Who are you?” Rumple questions, the three of them all turning at the sound of his voice.

“Hello Papa,” Gideon and Cody say at the same time and it is all Regina can do not to groan in despair. _Not more unknown relatives!_

At least Rumple seems to share her opinion, for once. “…right,” he says, before Tinkerbell suddenly puts a dreamshade arrow to Cody’s throat.

“How did you get that wand?” she hisses.

“I inherited it,” Cody replies, frowning at Tinkerbell. “You’re not getting laid yet, are you? I can tell, you’re stiff as a board.”

Tinkerbell isn’t the only one to suddenly start staring at the self-proclaimed time-travelling, realm-hopping mystic.

“I’m one of the few people who can wield it safely,” Cody continues, twirling the wand up to tap against the dreamshade arrow. “Considering my blood, it seemed inevitable. Don’t fear, I didn’t steal it. I even check in with Blue every so often, to make sure she’s kept up to date with its personality.”

“Shhh!” Tinkerbell throws away the arrow, instead clapping a hand over her mouth. That hand rips away when – assumedly – Cody licks it.

“We’ve got to return home, soon. Lucy, say your goodbyes. You’ve already changed too much. While the destination might still be the same, the journey there is just as, if not more important.”

“I’m coming,” Lucy says, before looking around the camp – looking to Emma, Regina, Rumple and Hook. “Thank-you.”

“I’m going to miss you,” Regina murmurs, swallowing the lump in her throat, glad when Lucy sweeps forwards, hugging her tightly. Emma, likewise, comes over, getting her own tight embrace and even a short whisper in her ear before Lucy swamped the Dark One in a hug.

“You’ll see the future me soon enough,” Rumple says, awkwardly patting her back. “Go hug him. He’s probably…more used to it, than I am, what with those two.”

“I don’t like hugs,” Gideon states.

“He says like a stroppy teenager who needs more hugs,” Cody comments immediately, taking Lucy’s hand after she finishes giving Killian a kiss on the cheek. “Time to go. Good luck to you all. Please don’t take your time trying to rescue my nephew.”

Regina watches as her sister from the future raises her black fairy wand, summoning a golden time portal into existence. Lucy doesn’t look back when she throws herself through with Cody, leaving Gideon to twist and speak to them.

“One final word: beware my grandparents. They are both more powerful than they seem.” Then, Gideon falls back into the portal dramatically, being sucked through backwards, the portal winking out of existence.

For a long moment, there’s silence, before Emma repeats herself.

“Time to save Henry.”


	9. Chapter 9

Emma watches Regina thrust Henry’s heart back into his chest and then faces the longest minute of her life as he doesn’t react, for all the world, _dead_. But then he sucks in a breath and Emma cries with relief.

“Woah, woah, take it easy, buddy,” Neal soothes him, hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to save magic.”

“It’s okay,” Emma reassures him. “It’s okay.”

“I-I wanted to be a hero,” he gasps, eyes going glassy. Emma hugs his head, Regina stroking her hand on his chest soothingly.

“Hey, there’s plenty of time for that,” David assures him.

“Right now, it’s time to rest,” Mary-Margaret finishes. Emma smiles at her weakly, before Hook greets Henry happily.

“Welcome back, young sir. Only the best for our guest of honour, don’t you think? Captains quarters.”

“I’ll tuck you in,” Regina says, before together – Emma and Regina, together – help Henry up, slowly walking him to Hook’s rooms. They sit by his bed, quiet as Regina fiddles with his blankets and his pillows.

“We were so worried about you,” Emma says, when he looks comfortable. “All that time…”

“I missed you,” he says.

“We missed you too,” Regina grips his hand, wiping her cheeks. “We missed you _so much_ , Henry. You don’t even understand how much.”

“A lot happened, when we were on Neverland,” Emma says, gently nudging Regina in askance. The Queen glances back at her, tilting her head. Emma raises an eyebrow, mentally questioning, _you want me to speak to him?_

Regina nods very slightly and Emma looks back at Henry, who frowns at their interaction.

“What- what happened?”

“We met someone special,” Emma says gently. “She travelled back into the past by accident – she was your sister. Her name was Lucy.”

“A sister?” Henry’s eyes widen slightly, nowhere as near as wide as usual. Emma swallows the hard lump in her throat, smiling and nodding.

“Yeah. She told us a couple of things about the future-”

“Like what?”

“Like how she has a wife and a child of her own, like how Gold has more than a handful of children to deal with other than Neal,” Emma says, joking slightly. Regina wordlessly whacks the nearest piece of Emma she can reach – her arm.

“Hey,” Henry immediately protests. “Don’t hurt each other.”

“Emma is poking fun at something I recently found out about myself,” Regina says, before sighing. “ _Apparently_ , I’m Rumplestiltskin’s daughter, which means I’m your biological aunt.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Regina replies. “There are a lot of things we learnt on Neverland that you might find interesting, but you need to rest now. I’ve told you the biggest thing I can think of.”

Emma clears her throat pointedly. “Regina. Lucy?”

Regina scowls at her, briefly returned to the normal Regina Mills, before Henry tugs at her hand.

“What is it?”

“Kid, what do you know about magic and- and babies?” Emma questions. Henry wrinkles his nose, which is enough of an answer. “In the Enchanted Forest, certain people can have kids together without… _without_ being together. It’s magical, literally. When we were in Neverland, I…might have knocked up your mom.”

“ _Emma!_ ” Regina hisses, hitting her again twice in succession. “That is _not_ how you tell our son-”

“I’m going to be a big brother?” Henry questions breathlessly. “That’s so cool…and she’s going to be called Lucy?”

“Emma Lucy Mills,” Regina whacks Emma again for good measure as she smirks, “but yes, Lucy. It’ll be a long time before I have her, but she’s coming eventually.”

“That’s amazing,” Henry says softly. “And she’s both of yours? Like, Emma’s the dad?”

“Yeah, I’m the dad,” Emma smiles at their son, eyes crinkling like his do as he smiles at them. They don’t talk much longer after that, Henry drifting in and out of sleep. Eventually, Emma puts a hand on Regina’s shoulder, squeezing before leaving Henry’s bedside, going up onto the deck.

“Let’s get my dad out of the Box,” Neal says, taking it out of his pocket. Emma follows him up onto the upper deck, where he goes to open Pandora’s Box, but Emma freezes at the sight of a string of water-skins.

“Dreamshade,” she says, stumbling over, picking them up. “No. No, no, no – we didn’t give her one! We didn’t give Lucy any of the water!”

“Emma?” Hook frowns from the upper deck, “What-” he starts, before seeing her holding the skins. “The lass!”

Emma clutches the string of skins to her chest, feeling it like a blow to the chest. All the happiness in her life is sucked out as she imagines Lucy curling up on the ground, in the future, dying of dreamshade poisoning. She hears Hook swear, shouting at the other adults in their party, even as Neal finishes releasing Gold.

 _I’ve got to tell Regina,_ Emma thinks, feet walking despite how Emma feels detached from reality. She founds herself outside the captains quarters, standing in front of the door. _Henry’s in there. He thinks he’s going to be a brother. Regina thinks she’s going to have a daughter who’ll grow up to have her own kid and True Love, who isn’t going to die as soon as she steps foot in Storybrooke._

Emma still clutches the skins. When the door opens, Regina shuts it long before she realises what Emma’s holding.

“What are you standing out here for? You could have come inside,” she says, before seeing the water-skins. “What are you carrying those around for?”

Emma stares at Regina, unable to formulate an answer. She just…stands there, feeling haunted and lost.

“Emma, you’re worrying me,” Regina mutters, before looking at the water-skins again. Emma sees when it clicks – when she realises what they haven’t done. “No. No, we gave her one. We _gave Lucy one to take_.”

“We didn’t, Regina, we didn’t,” Emma says, voice cracking. She puts the skins on a nearby table, not taking her eyes off of Regina.

“ _No,_ ” the Queen chokes on a sob. Emma gives up on being still and steady, hugging her tightly. Regina grips her turtleneck without care, burrowing her face in the cotton. “No, no, no, no, no…”

“We’ll make an antidote,” Emma says, clutching Regina as much as Regina does her. “Gold’ll make an antidote and we’ll wait for her, we’ll tell- we’ll tell this Cody that one day, she’s going to travel through time and get Lucy from Neverland, but she’s going to be poisoned. We can give her an antidote to keep with her-”

“What if it’s too late? Hook’s brother died immediately, or so he says,” Regina interrupts. Emma rests her forehead against hers, holding them both steady. “What if the antidote has a finite life? What if-”

“Stop,” Emma chokes on her own words, failure swirling in her gut. “ _Please_.”

Then Gold is rushing past them, bursting into Henry’s room, releasing some form of silencing ward. Henry’s yelling and Pan is trying to tear his shadow off.

“Get your hands off my grandson, demon!” Gold opens Pandora’s Box, sucking him in. Emma and Regina both tumble inside, coming to Henry’s side as he collapses to the floor.

“Henry!”

* * *

“Keep a close eye on him,” Emma says and Regina feels a curl of anger in her gut.

“I already said I would,” she replies, knowing what’s coming. _I thought this was over. I should have known it was too good to be true._

“I know. He just doesn't seem quite himself.”

“Really? You mean because he asked for me?” Regina queries, raising her eyebrows at the Saviour.

Emma seems to realise what she just said, eyes widening as she shakes her head. “No, I didn’t- I didn’t mean-”

The problem is, even as Regina interrupts her and tears down her confidence, Regina can tell it was an accident. Maybe Henry _is_ acting strange to Emma, who is used to the boy who distrusts his mother and would rather live on a blow-up mattress in his grandparents – but Emma is still questioning her parenting, questioning their son’s very nature.

Later, when Henry is sleeping in his bedroom, in her _house_ , Regina lies back in her bed and thinks of their relationship. _We need more compromise, more communication. We need to work on everything, if we want to raise Henry properly – if we want to raise **Lucy** properly._ Her heart clenches at the thought of her daughter, grown and in the future, her fate uncertain; but at the same time she feels exhilarated.

Regina never thought she’d ever be pregnant. Once, with Daniel, they whispered about living as husband and wife in a cottage, looking after horses and raising a small brood of children. She dreamed of their tiny hands and heads with Daniel’s soft brown hair and her eyes. Then, he died and the King had her at his pleasure. Dreams turned to nightmares, beautiful children turning into doe-eyed, Snow White miniature girls that whispered to her mother and lecherous young men who called their wives the wrong names.

But _Lucy_ , Lucy with her beautiful face, looking so much like Regina – so much like her mother’s parents. _I thought she looked like my father – my daddy, but I was seeing what I wanted to._ Lucy looked like Regina, like Cora and her family before her, Southerners who Cora abandoned until the day her siblings – Regina’s aunts and uncles – made their mark on the world in rare trade across the realms.

Tanned skin, dark eyes and a sharp jaw. Cora would have sneered, calling her a mistake – that Regina should try again, that Lucy would only be able marry up if she’s pale. _Well, there’s hardly anyone higher than I,_ Regina thinks wryly. _I’m Queen of the White Kingdom, of Xavier’s Kingdom and Maleficent lets me tax her vast mountain realm, so long as I protect it from invasion when she sleeps._

Regina can’t wait till Lucy is born, so she can hold a baby again and go through those Firsts again. _And Emma will be with me, she’ll get to do it with me. I’ll have someone to share them all with._

Of course, Regina is broken from her thoughts by Henry, who says how lucky he is that she loves him. She holds his hands and promises to be the mother he always wanted her to be.

“I love you,” she says, hugging him tightly and there’s a moment, where he hugs her back before his hand shifts.

Regina doesn’t question it – she should.

Because a second later, he steps back and opens a bottle of powdered sleep in her face. Regina coughs and chokes, dropping to the ground, unable to stop the heavy, unexpected magic from knocking her unconscious.

When she wakes, it’s to her head in Emma’s lap, Rumple – her father – kneeling over her, the remnants of a waking spell haunting her like the worst hangover in the world.

“What? What happened?” she questions weakly, looking up at Emma in confusion.

“It’s Henry,” she says, panic leaking into her voice. “Somehow Pan switched bodies with him. Are you okay? Lucy?”

Regina swallows, feeling the magic inside her. It’s strong and unharmed, the residual effects of the sleeping enchantment sliding off it like oil.

“She’s fine,” Regina says, letting Emma help her up, guilt manifesting quickly. “I fell for his trick. I should have listened to you when you said something was wrong with him.”

“I should have phrased it better,” Emma holds her hands tightly – too tight. _She was worried about me,_ Regina realises, before shaking her head.

“I wanted to believe what he was saying so badly I missed all the signs. I just wanted to believe he still needed me to be his mother.”

“I still do.”

Regina looks up automatically at the answer, taken-aback at seeing Pan, before remembering what Emma said just a few seconds ago.

“Henry?”

He answers her by rushing forwards and it is so _strange_ to hug him, in this tall, gangly teenage body – the teenage body of her grandfather. But knowing it’s her son, Regina doesn’t hesitate to embrace him, clutching her tightly.

“How’s my sister?” he questions when they part. Regina feels uncomfortably revealed, then, especially when Snow echoes Henry’s question in her own special way.

“How is my granddaughter?”

“She’s fine,” Regina grits her teeth, trying to ignore Snow as Rumple turns to her sharply, pointing at an empty box, suddenly desperate and- and _scared_.

“Please tell me you didn’t keep it down here,” he says, before she realises the Dark Curse is gone from its box.

“Where else would I keep it?” she replies.

* * *

“Gold, this curse, is it going to work like the last one?” Emma questions, to the shake of his head. They stand outside the Vault, curved in a semi-circle in front of him as he tells them.

“The last one was created to service the Queen’s wishes. This will be done per Pan’s desire. I would count on something hellish.”

“The curse was built to be unstoppable,” Regina says and Emma looks to her, squeezing the hand she’s holding in support. Regina squeezes back in return as she finishes. “There’s nothing that can be done.”

“Well, it is possible to stop it,” Gold interjects.

“What?” Regina questions, obviously not having known this.

“By using the scroll it itself. It can only be undone by the person who used the scroll. That’s you, Regina, as much as I wish it weren’t,” he says, eyes locking onto her. “You must destroy the scroll. Both yours and his curses shall be ended, but know this: there will be a price; a steep one.”

“W-what do you suggest?” Regina questions, shifting closer to Emma, Henry following as Regina wraps her arm around his waist. _He’s too tall in Pan’s body to be shoulder-hugged_ , Emma thinks.

“Instead of going to him, bring him to us with a spell – one that will return Pan and Henry to their own bodies.”

Henry speaks up excitedly, “If I’m back in my own body, that means I’ll have the scroll. I can bring it to you guys.”

“Exactly right, Henry.”

Regina shakes her head, however, “Even you aren't powerful enough to cast such a spell.”

“Well, given the proper tool, I could be – and I _would_ assume that our dearly departed Mother Superior has it hidden in her residence, considering my daughter’s comment in Neverland.”

“A fairy wand?” Emma questions, remembering Cody and her brother, who retrieved Lucy.

“The Black Fairy’s wand,” Tinkerbell clarifies. “One of the most powerful fairies that ever existed, well-versed in dark magic. The Blue Fairy exiled her, but before she did, she took her wand.”

Emma snorts. “If we’re lucky, she’s not related to Gold.”

“Not _all_ my relatives are villains, Miss Swan,” Gold states, sounding amused, if nothing else. “You’re a prime example.”

“I am _not_ an example,” Emma denies.

“Well, you’ve certainly tied yourself to my bloodline rather impressively, actually.”

“We should get to the convent,” David interrupts, before Emma can come up with a retort that doesn’t leave Gold with the upper hand.

“Can I come?” Tinkerbell questions. “I should pay my respects to Blue, after all.”

“I’ll come too,” Snow adds, while David nods.

“Us as well,” Neal volunteers himself and Hook.

Gold smiles as things are finalised. “Then it’s settled. The rest of us should get back to my shop and prepare Henry for the spell.”

They disperse, Emma and Regina staying close to Henry. Regina, however, refuses to take the Bug, insisting on her Mercedes.

“It’s safer,” she says, “and I have a full tank.”

“Right,” Emma says, but agrees to her demands. _I owe more than a few favours to her, for getting her pregnant._ They drive the Mercedes to Gold’s shop, retreating to the back room. Waiting around, Emma finds herself looking at a pretty glass baby mobile, blue and clear unicorns hanging on strings.

“I recognise this,” Regina murmurs, tilting her head as Emma gently spins a piece. “I can’t remember where from, though.”

“I believe,” Gold starts, “it was Princess Emma’s, or at least it was supposed to be.”

“Oh,” Regina pauses, “I must have seen it when Charming placed you in the wardrobe.”

“You were there?” Emma questions.

“I came to gloat,” Regina admits. “And steal you for myself.”

A startled laugh escapes her, “Steal me? What, you would have spent the next twenty-eight years raising me.”

“She would have spent forever with you,” Gold corrects. “You would have been caught in the Curse, a newborn for the rest of your life. The Curse never would have been broken, unless Regina found she loved you so much that _she_ broke it.”

“…kind of awkward to think about, considering, well…everything,” Emma says, glancing at Henry’s mother, who makes a slight face.

“Agreed.”

Spinning another unicorn, Emma watches it catch in the light for a long moment, before glancing at Belle as Gold wraps an arm around her waist, murmuring to her. A look to Regina shows her peering covertly at them as well.

“Does she know, do you think?” Emma mutters to the Queen, who purses her lips before clearing her throat.

“Are you going to tell Belle your little discovery?” she questions.

Gold pauses, Belle looking between them. “What discovery?”

“That my mother’s a bitch,” Regina says humourlessly.

“Rumple?” Belle looks to Gold for a translation.

“Regina,” Gold hedges, vaguely uncomfortable, “it seems…is…”

“She’s your daughter, isn’t she?” Belle asks. Emma thinks she looks suspiciously unsurprised. At Emma’s raised eyebrow, Belle shrugs lightly. “She could open enough locked cabinets.”

“Cabinets?” Emma questions.

“Blood magic,” Regina clarifies. “Only able to be opened by the same bloodline, in this case, Rumple’s. So, Rumple, Baelfire, Henry, Pan and I.”

“And any other mystery relatives,” Emma jokes, glancing at Gold. “Did you tell her about your time travelling granddaughter?”

“Lucy?” Belle asks.

“Yeah.”

“I told her everything,” Gold cuts in. “Gideon and Cody, included. I don’t keep secrets from Belle.”

“Good for you, Papa,” Regina says condescendingly, making Gold sigh.

“We talked about that, you and I.”

“You should have double-checked my mother’s story,” Regina snits, before Henry murmurs to her. “…sorry.”

“Apology accepted, dearie,” Gold smirks, prompting Regina to roll her eyes.

And then they’re waiting, impatient for the retrieval team to return with the Black Fairy’s wand.

* * *

“Look who’s still a fairy.”

Tink smiles at Hook. “Look who’s still a pirate,” she says, stepping closer to him. His hand trails along her arm, tugging at her sleeve. “Are you alright?”

“Well, I lost the hand once. It’s nothing.”

Tink nods, glancing away from him briefly to check on the Charmings and Bae, who peers into the firepit at his old coconut trap, burnt to a husk.

“Tink,” Killian starts, before his hand moves up to cup her cheek. Tink swallows, remembering a time in Neverland, when he was still crooked and yearning for revenge. She reaches up to hold his wrist, suddenly scared, her heart beating fast. He moves slowly, head tilting, but their lips connect after a few moments, gentle and so unlike hundreds of years ago.

Hundreds of years ago, Hook had plundered her, showed her new things. Tink never thought she’d get that – it had never crossed her mind, even as Green. Back then, it had been a curiosity, one she decided wasn’t important or something she’d like to do, very often, but this – _kissing, it’s called kissing_ – Tink likes.

“Oh!” Snow gasps, sounding happy and it breaks the moment. Tink pulls back, startled, before hearing a familiar voice.

“You’ve changed, Green,” Blue states, not unkindly. Twisting, stepping back into Killian’s chest. He holds her steady as Blue eyes them, as if they’re something interesting. “Well done with the Shadow.”

“Blue, but…but you were…”

“Gone, I know,” Blue nods, stepping forwards, closer. Tink draws out of Killian’s grasp slightly, reaching out her hand to take Blue’s. The contact from another fairy, so warm and familiar after so long alone almost brings her to tears. “But when you killed the Shadow, mine was returned and I was revived. Thank-you. You finally believed in yourself, Green- _Tinkerbell_. Welcome back.”

“I’m a fairy again?” Tink questioned, hope budding in her chest. “Even after I disobeyed all your rules?”

Blue laughs slightly, squeezing her hand. “I might have been overly strict. You deserved your wings, Tinkerbell and you have earned them back many times over.”

“Thank-you,” Tink says tearfully, a flower blooming in her chest. _I’m a fairy. I’m a fairy again._

“As for the Black Fairy’s wand,” Blue lets go of her hand, turning to Baelfire. The wand appears and Tink can feel it, so guarded and defensive, the desperation and blackness contained inside a testament to the Black Fairy’s willingness to use magic like she had. “Go, save us all.”

“Thank-you,” Bae takes it, before they exit the convent. Walking out, Tink holds Killian’s hand.

* * *

The reality is this: Lucy went back to the future, Regina is pregnant with the Lucy of their time and somehow, Emma is going to get knocked up next week. This is all discounting the mess they’ve just gone through: rescuing Henry, accidentally trapping Henry in Pandora’s Box in Peter Pan’s body, returning Henry to his real body with the Black Fairy’s wand, watching Gold sacrifice himself to kill Pan and running to the edge of town with the Dark Curse scroll as the magic it created threatens to overwhelm them all.

“The price is too high!” Emma snaps on the edge of Storybrooke, even as Regina shakes her head, teary and barely holding in all her upset. “The price is _too high!_ ” she states, angry at the world.

She’s not going to see Lucy be born. She’s not going to be with Regina as she gets larger and- and _any_ sort of romance they could have had is going to be snuffed out. There was a flame between them, a slow start that is being torn to pieces by Pan’s Curse.

Neither she nor Henry will remember the amazing woman in front of them ever existed.

Emma reaches forwards, taking Regina’s face in her hands and kissing her. Regina reciprocates and it’s so fast and messy, _desperate,_ but Emma drinks her in, wishing with all her heart that they’ll reunite. _Something went wrong, it had to have gone wrong. I’m so sorry, Lucy. I can’t be your mom, I won’t be there. I love you so much and I’m sorry._

“You’ve got to go, Emma,” her mother says, before Emma feels Regina’s magic rippling beneath her skin. It wraps around her and sinks into her blood, before retreating. Regina pushes her away.

“Go!”

Emma hurries to Regina’s Mercedes, the green cloud so close to them now. All at once, she wants her Bug, wants some sort of comfort, but the Bug is lost in a graveyard covered in green smoke. Regina tears the Dark Curse and Henry buckles in. Emma chances one more look backwards before driving, purple lightning shooting up into the sky from Regina, turning the cloud lavender.

They cross the town line and-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: btw, canon dialogue courtesy of ForeverDreaming Transcripts


	10. Chapter 10

“You’re so pretty, yes you are, _yes_ you are,” Emma tickles Roni’s bare belly, smiling at her as she wriggles and smiles. “Pretty baby.”

“The internet says you shouldn’t baby-talk her!” Henry calls from the sitting room.

“The internet says that if you talk to your baby, it recognises more words and develops social skills!” Emma replies, raising her voice to be heard from her place in her bedroom. “And your sister is a very pretty baby!”

“I never said she- dammit!” Henry interrupts himself, before half-shouting into his headset at the other players of his game. Emma rolls her eyes, giving a cursory _‘language!’_ when he swears at the person getting their team killed.

Focusing back on Roni, Emma buttons her clothes up, humming a little tune to herself. Roni was a little early – at least a couple of weeks – but she’s still growing like a weed, already in the ninety-first centile for her height, having jumped up from the eighty-eighth. _You’re going to be so tall,_ she thinks, wondering what she’ll look like as a toddler and a teenager.

“I hope you look like your uncle,” Emma says to Roni. “That way, you’ll look like your mom. IVF is cool, but only if you actually have the chance to look like both your parents. You’re so beautiful, baby girl.”

Roni wriggles again as Emma picks her up, pressing a kiss to her little nose. Her hair is already way longer than Henry’s ever was a baby, the same colour as Regina’s. Thinking of her dead wife makes Emma’s heart pang with hurt and she cradles Roni in her arms, wondering if it’s possible to put her in a castle and rename her Rapunzel.

The doorbell rings. “Henry, can you get that?” Emma questions, before hearing him curse out his teammates again. “Language, Henry Swan! Where the hell are you picking up shit like that?”

“You,” he replies, before the doorbell rings again. Emma sighs but stands, going to the door as Roni drools on her shoulder.

Unlocking the door, expecting it to be her batty neighbour, Mr Perkins, Emma doesn’t expect to see a couple, dressed in what looks like Tinkerbell and Captain Hook cosplay.

“Uh…can I help you?”

The two share a look, before the woman speaks in an Australian accent. “You might not remember us, but we know Henry’s father.”

Emma’s eyes widen. “Oh! Right, uh, come in. I haven’t heard from Neal in months, since he went off on tour. What’s this about?” Letting them in, Emma wonders again at the cosplay, before shutting the door, internally naming them _Guyliner_ and _Blondie_.

“We’ve got some news. It might be shocking.”

“If you came to tell me he died in combat or something,” Emma starts uneasily, the concept not thrilling her in the least, “then you could have at least come in suits.”

They share another look, before Emma leads them to her kitchen, motioning to the breakfast bar. Shifting Roni on her hip, Emma calls out to Henry.

“Kid – Henry, some friends of your uncle’s are here to see us.”

“Just a minute. I’m on the last round,” Henry says distractedly. Emma catches a replay of his last kill in slow motion, the opposite combatants head blowing up.

“Violent,” Guyliner says, sounding disturbed. Picking up an accent of some sort, Emma notes it in her head, waiting for him to speak again so she can figure it out.

“Kids these days are desensitised,” Emma replies, before putting Roni in her swinger, not comfortable with breadfeeding in front of strangers. Roni wriggles about for a minute, before Emma pushes the swing lightly. “So,” she starts once Roni quiets, looking at the couple, “who are you guys and what’s up?”

“I’m Green,” Blondie greets.

“Killian Jones,” Guyliner holds out his hand. Emma shakes, noticing the good form.

“Military?”

“Navy,” he replies, sounding surprised. _British, that’s a British accent._

Emma’s nods at his costume. “The Captain Hook outfit a homage? Going to Comicon or something?”

Jones frowns, a little confused, “What is ‘Comicon’?”

“Like a convention for nerds,” Emma says, nodding to Henry. “He went last week, got his favourite comic-books signed by their artists.”

“That sounds fun,” Green states and briefly, Emma wonders what her first name is – if she’s military too. _She’s got a funny air about her,_ Emma thinks, more feeling it than observing.

“Are you in the Forces as well?” she questions, curiosity getting the better of her. At her question, though, Green looks vaguely panicked – but Jones smoothly cuts in.

“Green is part of a special team. They’re rather secretive. It’s probably best you don’t ask questions,” he advises. Emma eyes him, not sensing a lie – but still sensing bullshit, all the same.

“So, your news?”

_There they go again, **looking** at each other._

“Uh, lass,” Jones starts awkwardly. “You…you remember Regina?”

Emma flinches. “Of course I do. She was my wife. I thought this was about Neal.”

“Uh, not exactly,” he clears his throat. “She’s in danger.”

Emma glares. “She’s _dead_.”

“No, she’s not,” Green says softly and Emma stares for a moment, before pointing at her door.

“Out. Get out, right now. My wife is dead and I won’t have you disrespecting her memory.”

“Memory, right,” Jones scoffs, shaking his head. “She doesn’t remember the last year, Swan and there’s a murderer-kidnapper on the loose in Storybrooke. Lucy’s missing and you-”

Emma blanches. _Lucy_. “How do you know that name?”

“It’s the name of the Queen’s daughter,” Jones says, before Green elbows him.

“The Queen is Regina,” she explains, glaring lightly at her partner, just as Henry comes over.

“What are you talking about?”

“Kid, go to your room,” Emma orders him, feeling sick. “Now.”

“What’s going on?” Henry questions. “Mom?”

“Room, Henry,” Emma repeats. “Go. This isn’t something I want you to hear until I get proof.”

“I can give you proof,” Green immediately replies, reaching into her handbag, taking out a smartphone. She struggles to unlock it for a moment, frowning, but then she gets into it, brow furrowing as she swipes through it. Emma waits impatiently, tense and scared, startling when Henry lunges forwards, grabbing the phone out of Green’s hands.

“Mom! It’s- it’s _Mom,_ ” Henry says, shocked. Emma, hearing the difference, skirts around the island, steadying the phone in his hand as Henry scrolls through an album of photos, full of _Regina_.

“Pictures,” Emma’s voice wobbles, before she looks to Jones and Green. “We- when- when the fire burned down our home in Boston and- and killed Regina, we lost all our photos and we didn’t have the Cloud sorted out. We lost everything of hers, except the car and a handbag.”

“And a jacket,” Henry adds, still lost in the photos, before he enlarges one of Regina awkwardly taking a selfie. Her hair is longer than Emma ever remembers it being and a small boy with curly hair leans over her shoulder, dressed in some kind of green cape.

Henry taps the screen. The time-stamp dates it from yesterday.

“She’s alive, she- she’s actually alive,” Emma whispers, enthralled with the photo. Regina looks stressed, eyes dark and skin pale. A livid red scar sweeps the curve of her jaw and it scares Emma. _Is that from the fire? Did a steel beam fall on her? Oh my god, don’t tell me she got blown away by the Bug’s car door when the house and garage exploded._

“We had a funeral,” Henry says quietly, before he presses the phone into her hand, rushing away. Emma swallows, giving him his space.

“Should I go see to the boy?” Jones questions, half-standing from his seat – Emma only now noticing the hook, so far down his arm it could only be a proper prosthetic.

“No,” she says lowly. “He- he needs time. Where is she?”

“Storybrooke.”

“And- and you said that- that _Lucy_ is missing. So, IVF worked for us both? She had a baby, too?”

“Yes,” Green says gently. “Emma Lucy Mills. She thought she’d never see you again.”

Emma gives a bark of laughter. “I thought so, too. Roni- Veronique, it’s the name of her grandmother. Veronique Swan.”

“No middle name?” Green asks, teasing a little.

“No, no…” Emma puts the phone down, going over to her daughter, picking her up and holding her close, needing comfort. Shutting her eyes, Emma tries to recall Regina’s face, but over the months it’s faded in her mind. Only now, seeing the pictures, can Emma remember – or superimpose her image onto half-forgotten memories. _But that’s normal,_ she thinks, knowing she still remembers Neal like he was when they first met, fourteen years ago.

“What are you working as, right now?” Green questions.

“I’m not,” Emma admits. “I had a job, in the start – I got back into doing bail bonds stuff because none of my papers from Boston were coming through for police-work. Once I was pregnant though, I just did paperwork, before finally quitting and taking some shifts in the record-shop nearby. Roni likes the music they pay there. She’s sixteen and a half weeks old, but she has taste, I can tell you that.”

“So, if we asked you to come to Storybrooke to help solve this case and reunite with your family…” Jones trails off, eyebrow rising.

“Yes,” Emma immediately replies. “I’d come, please. I want to see my wife.”

“Emma,” Jones starts, “We’re not kidding when we say that Regina doesn’t remember the last year. She was…asleep.”

“In a coma? And pregnant?” Emma questions, recoiling at the thought of Regina waking up alone to find herself however many months through.

“It’s complicated, we know, which is why it’s important you come to Storybrooke.”

“I need to get my things in order,” Emma says. “Where’s Regina staying in this…Storybrooke?”

“She has a house,” Green skirts, failing to supress a smile. “It’s kinda big. If I weren’t happy with Killian in the ship, I think I’d like to live there.”

“You live in a boat?”

“No, love, a _ship_ ,” Jones smirks. “Finest sailboat in the world.”

“I bet you say that to everyone,” Emma says, briefly back to her usual self before her heart sinks again. _Regina’s alone. Lucy’s taken…who would take a baby?_

“It’s a good ship,” Green defends with a small smile, before pointing at the phone. “That has directions to Storybrooke in it. It’s hard to find, if you don’t know where it is. I’d like to guide you there, or Killian, but we need to get back soon. It really was a one-off that we found you, here – we’ve been trying to find you for months, now, ever since Regina…” she trails off, but Emma nods.

“Thank-you for finding us,” she says, knowing they barely left any trail at all. The only possible way they could have found them would be by searching through their bank statements and checking where Henry’s school record was transferred from – though, Emma knows all about the trouble Henry’s school still had, trying to get a hold of them.

Green smiles. “It’s no problem, Emma. No problem at all.”

* * *

That evening, Hook and Tinkerbell return to Storybrooke. Regina stands up from her booth in Granny’s, crowding them.

“What the hell happened? Did you find Emma and Henry?”

“And more, love,” Hook promises. “Remember Lucy talking about ‘Roni Swan’? Well, it turns out she’s alive and bawling. Swan had a babe of her own.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news,” Snow says, pressing her hand to her own baby bump. Regina tries not to roll her eyes.

“What else?” she questions.

“The memories you gave Emma and Henry, did you know what they were going to be?” Tinkerbell questions tentatively.

“Happy. Together. Emma never gave Henry up for adoption.”

“Regina,” Tink comes forwards, taking her hands tightly. “Emma remembers you. She thinks you’re her wife who _died_.”

“Her _what?_ ” Regina questions, incredulous. “We’ve only kissed a few times and now we’re _married_ in this dream world of hers?”

“And Henry’s,” Hook adds, sounding grim. “He was upset when we showed them proof you were alive, those pictures you took with Roland to show him what a camera was. They had a funeral for you, love.”

Regina feels floored. “A funeral?” _Henry. Henry thinks I’ve been dead this whole time. That’s not happy – that’s depressing._

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Hook says, before Granny comes over to shuffle them away from the doorway.

“You’re blocking the entrance. This is an official Wayport, you can’t be standing there,” she chastises, before yelling. “Ruby! Get Dorothy to help write down all the Merry Men’s names in the book! We need to finish that census!”

“How is a census going to help?” Tinkerbell frowns lightly.

“More and more people are going missing,” Regina states. “We need to know who’s here to know who isn’t.”

“Like Lucy,” she says.

“And we cheated with her,” Regina says, pursing her lips, hand running over her stomach. She’s seen her own scars, long purple stretches that mark her has having had a child. _Except there’s no child. She’s not here._ “We knew she was coming. How old is- is Roni?”

“Sixteen and a half weeks,” Tinkerbell states. “Four months old.”

“Okay,” Regina swallows. “Okay. I’m going to rightly assume that we went into labour at the same time, because of how Lucy boasted about being older. Twins.”

“How is that possible?” Hook questions.

“Anything’s possible with magic – sometimes, it’s just very, very difficult,” Regina informs him, before letting out a breath as Roland comes flying into the café, banging into her legs.

Out of everyone who could possibly remember their missing year, it being her soulmates son was not something Regina expected.

“Gina! Gina, I found something!” he exclaims as she picks him up, gently setting him on her hip. He takes her wrist, holding her wrist tightly. Immediately, Regina is thrown into a vision of a pumpkin patch, a farmhouse on the horizon. Fear perpetrates the vision – Roland’s fear, as a figure with bright red hair and a bundle steps out of the door.

“Roland,” Robin chastises as he enters, the vision ending. “What have I told you about running ahead?”

“But I had to show Aunty Gina,” Roland says, letting go of Regina’s wrist. The magical tattoo there, all green leaves and tiny daisy flowers, glows briefly before fading back to its usual translucent imagery. Regina still doesn’t know how it happened, still bothered by the fact that Roland has a nearly identical tattoo on his own wrist – daisies replaced with his father’s lions.

The fact that Roland also uses her magic whenever he does this kind of trick is also cause for concern.

“Aunty Gina,” Regina starts, “would rather you be safe.”

“But it’s the witch! She’s here!” Roland says, half-crying. “She’s got the baby!”

Ice pierces Regina’s heart, Robin taking Roland from her after she hikes him up her hip again, his weight a strange familiarity. It reminds her of when Henry was a toddler, clinging to her like a limpet – however, there’s no strain, so Regina has had so assume over the course of the past week that it was normal for her to lug around Roland like she used to with her son.

“He was playing at the edge of the forest, while Little John was hunting a doe.”

“The edge?” Regina frowns, thinking of Storybrooke’s borders. “By the sea?”

“No, inland,” Robin says.

“The borders have shifted,” Regina frowns. “Storybrooke was within the forest – that’s all it ever was. Town that took over forest and coastland.”

“The Merry Men would scout this place, if you wished it, milady,” Robin says and Regina gives a short nod. “I’ll organise a patrol.”

“I’ll meet them there,” Regina replies. “If this witch managed to Curse us successfully, she’s not one to be trifled with. I’m the most powerful caster in Storybrooke, except Rumplestiltskin.” Regina flinches.

“Milady?” Robin frowns.

“Me. I’m the most powerful caster. Rumple…my father is dead.”

“Your father is the Dark One? You are Baelfire’s sister?” Robin questions. Regina tucks her hands in her pocket. “You do look like him.”

“Thank-you,” she mutters, looking at her feet. “I’m sure I’ve already processed my feelings about it during our missing year, but right now, I’m back to where I started. Please excuse me.”

Regina leaves Granny’s, teleporting herself directly into her Vault. It’s the same as ever and she sits heavily on a bench.

_I want my family._

Supposedly, they’re coming to Storybrooke. It’ll be easy enough for Granny to slip the memory potion into their milkshakes or their cocoa – whatever they order. But before that happens, they’ll have to see her. She’s not exactly at Storybrooke General and Emma- Emma thinks Regina is her wife. _How did that happen?_ She questions herself, wondering if it was an effect of her- _their_ pregnancies.

 _True Love. That’s the only way we could do that to each other so successfully,_ Regina thinks, closing her eyes. _We might as well be married._

The worst part – other than her bra being too fucking small for her chest – is that her arms ache. Regina wants to _hold_ something – Lucy, probably. Lucy, who has been taken by a witch. Regina can imagine having become very attached to her daughter in the Enchanted Forest, in the absence of her son. She’ll see Henry tomorrow. She’ll see him again, hug him and smell his hair, be able to touch his face and cry over him. She won’t be able to see Lucy, not unless that witch gives her back.

Regina knows she only remembers the last few days, the new Curse having been cast so they don’t remember the longer space of time – but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t burn to see her children again. She’d cried between the few minutes she saw Henry in Pan’s body and then in his own – and thinking about Lucy, who will grow up to be such an amazing young woman, knowing that _her_ _baby_ , isn’t in her arms when she should be is torture.

 _And Emma…Emma Swan. That goodbye kiss was quite something,_ Regina reaches for lips, tracing them, revelling in the memory. _Lucy’s mother._ _I hope we get to kiss again. I…I need you to tell me we’re going to be fine, that we’ll get Lucy back. I need your unparalleled stubbornness._

“Hurry up, Miss Swan,” she whispers. _Hurry to Storybrooke and remember us._

* * *

“Pretty little munchkin,” Zelena coos at her niece. “I can’t _believe_ you come from Regina, little baby Lucy. Such an unoriginal name. How about…Zara, instead? Do you like that?” In her arms, baby Lucy wriggles and whimpers, crying. Zelena frowns, rocking her slightly before feeding her from a bottle.

“Babies are such hard work,” she mutters. “You’re worth it, though. All little people…children need love and caring. I had to take you from your mother because I’m going to destroy her. I might as well bond with you early, rather than have to deal with something that can remember her mothers face. Apparently you can do that, anyway, but I’m here now. I’ll get your little milestones – and obviously use you as leverage that I’ll never return.”

Zelena sighs, humming gently. “I wonder who your father is. It’d be very interesting to find out. The only reason I know Regina was never with that archer is because she knew she was having you when she came to the Enchanted Forest. Pity. I would have liked Regina to have been left guessing over why her body had changed so much. The perfect revenge…but this is sweeter. She knows and can do nothing to stop me.”

Standing, Zelena decides to drop in on her old teacher, travelling to the cellar via teleportation rather than torment Lucy with the cold. Inside, Rumplestiltskin spins straw to gold, nattering to himself. However, as soon as he glimpses Zelena, he stops.

 _No,_ the Wicked Witch of the West realises. _When he saw Lucy._

“Hello Rumple, darling. Have you met my niece?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soooooo...I'm back. Look out, I'm coming at the Wicked Arc with a renewed interest! (aka, I ended my rewatch pause after the Pan Arc ended and started to go through the Wicked Arc)

_ The Enchanted Forest – One Year Ago _

“How’ve things been since we left?” Snow questions Aurora. “The Ogres?”

“Defeated,” Aurora replies happily, smiling. Regina grimaces from the sidelines. “We’re restoring our kingdom and our lives.”

“And congratulations,” Snow tilts her head, Aurora putting a hand to her stomach, grinning happily.

“Is it that obvious?”

“You are _glowing_ ,” Snow praises, Regina wondering why she’s still hanging about with the insipid woman. But an odd spring of jealousy grows inside her.

 _I’m pregnant too,_ she thinks, _why hasn’t Snow complimented me?_ Something occurs to her suddenly. _Did Emma even tell them? We talked about it on Neverland, when Lucy had her little outburst…_

With a start, Regina realises it was never explicitly stated that she was pregnant – not when they were on Neverland, not when they were flying back to Storybrooke or even when they were _in_ Storybrooke. Only Rumple – _my father, he’s my damn father and he’s **dead** , my life is a circus _– said it.

 _Baelfire knows, as well,_ Regina twists her head back, looking into the crowd of people where her half-brother stands at the edge, talking to Red.

“We have much to celebrate,” says Phillip, “and know that you and your friends are welcome in our kingdom. If you need anything, we’re at your service.”

David shakes his head, “Thank-you, but all we need is horses. We have our own kingdom, our own castle.”

“Our castle was destroyed in the curse,” Snow puts a hand on David’s arm, Hook smiling at Regina depreciatingly as he pops a grape into his mouth.

“Well played, Your Majesty. You laid waste to everything.”

“Not everything,” Aurora states. “Her castle still stands.”

“Of course it does,” Regina says, rolling her eyes at Hook. “I protected it.”

“Well, technically, the castle doesn’t belong to her. It was Snow’s before she took it.”

“Well, to be _fair_ , I married into it,” Regina says, moving closer to them as she pokes holes in David’s story.

“That you did,” Snow agrees, smiling, “and now, we’re taking it back; and you are coming with us.”

“You can’t be serious,” Regina looks at her in surprise.

Snow is still smiling as she speaks. “Everyone out there is scared and confused. They need hope. What better way to do that than to return united? You’re coming with us. I know you don’t like it.” _Too right I don’t._ “You’ll learn to. For our good – for yours.” Snow shifts, before reaching out to her elbow. “And anyway, for things that could have been, you should come with us. For Lucy. You were family.”

“I’m still family,” Regina says, feeling conflicted, crossing her arms. Snow frowns lightly. “I…” Regina tries to find the words. _Your daughter impregnated me. I’m having your second grandchild. Lucy isn’t a ‘could have been’. That makes us family._

“What is it, Regina? What’s wrong?” Snow urges her to speak, but Regina feels under pressure and she shakes her head sharply, Snow’s hand on her elbow like a hot poker. Leaving sharply, she exits the pavilion, ignoring Snow’s call of her name as she heads over to the group of peasants. _Peasants and Baelfire,_ Regina corrects herself bitterly.

He sees her approaching and raises an eyebrow. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I know that face. What’s scared you?”

“I’m not scared,” Regina snaps, pulling her cloak around herself.

“Then what is it?” He steps away from Red, who leaves after a moment, giving them the veil of privacy. Regina turns away from the group, wanting to head for her castle. “Is it about Henry?”

“No,” Regina says, his name like a dagger to her heart. “What’s bothering me now is just making it worse.”

“Are you okay?” Baelfire puts a hand on her shoulder, obviously concerned over her health now, rather than her emotional well-being. Regina forces herself not to sneer outright at him.

“Snow doesn’t know. They’re the only ones on Neverland who weren’t told and who wouldn’t have worked it out from what sparse suggestions we all gave.”

“…right,” his hand doesn’t leave and after a few moments, he’s doing that thing again, with his arm around her shoulder. Regina huffs, glaring at him as he smiles nervously at her. “C’mon sis, it’s not all bad. Who else knows? Hook?”

“Maybe. I’m not certain,” Regina says lowly. “Rumple knew.”

Baelfire’s smile disappears, replaced with a solemn expression. “Good. I’m going to see if I can get him back.”

“You what?” Regina looks at him, slightly incredulous. “Why would you do that? He _died_.”

“He’s the Dark One,” Baelfire argues.

“That makes it worse,” Regina insists, “the price for a _life_ , especially one so embroiled in dark magic, Baelfire – only a life can be exchanged for a life. Are you willing to pay that price?” Before he can answer, she reaches up, gripping his jacket. “You aren’t doing it. Not on my watch.”

“But it’s our _papa_ , Regina-”

“And you’re my brother,” Regina interrupts, glaring fiercely. She tries to forget how he’s Henry’s father as she looks at him, but it’s a part of Baelfire that ties them to each other so delicately that without it, Regina can’t summon as much emotion within her in his name. “He wouldn’t want this for you. For either of us. If you want to bring him back, find some immoral lowlife to trade, but don’t go giving away yourself.”

Baelfire looks searchingly into her eyes, but after a long moment, he gives in, nodding. Regina doesn’t let go of his shirt, however.

“Promise me. Swear on Henry’s life.”

“Low blow,” Baelfire immediately says, but he clenches his jaw and nods. “I swear.”

“Good,” Regina steps away from him, looking at the curious dwarves glancing at them, whispering. She fakes a lunge, grinning as three of them jump out of their skins.

“Still got it,” Baelfire gives her a small grin.

“Of course,” Regina raises her eyebrows at him, smirking. “I never lost it.”

* * *

“Still surprised I’m here?” Tink questions as they walk up the path, Regina hating her fashion decisions every time her heels sink into soft soil. Regina glances at her, raising an eyebrow at the horse Captain Hook leads beside her.

“Particularly, seeing as you’re attached by the hip to the pirate.”

“We’ve decided to travel together,” Hook claims magnanimously, looking a little annoyed, “to help you get settled. Then, we find the _Jolly_ _Roger_.”

“I see,” Regina states, even though she really doesn’t. However, Baelfire raises an eyebrow.

“You guys have a history.”

Tink shrugs, looking warmly at the former Lost Boy. “We do. One we’re continuing.”

“Wait, you’re _together?_ ” Regina looks at them both sharply, remembering how her daughter had described Hook’s future – knowing that Hook is well aware fairies can’t have male children. The Captain meets her eyes and shakes his head slightly, causing her to frown.

_Is he really giving up on having a future where he has a son for Tinkerbell?_

“He’s not all that bad,” Tink jostles her slightly, misinterpreting her expression. “So, how is your love-life, Regina? You’ve been spending a lot of time with Bae.”

“Didn’t you get the message, Tink?” Baelfire teases, chuckling. “Regina’s my sister.”

“ _No._ ” Tink gasps, eyes wide. “Really? You’re really, _really_ the Dark One’s daughter, Regina?”

“Yes,” Regina sighs, before glancing up at a nearby mountain range. “His home is that way.”

“We should visit,” Baelfire says, “Maybe there’s something there that can help us get him back.”

“If there is,” Belle joins their group, coming up on Baelfire’s left, “I’m going. We never did see his knife.”

Regina stops abruptly, echoed by Tink a millisecond later. Hook, Baelfire and Belle look to the two women, who share a loaded glance.

“The Dark One has a hidden Vault,” Tink says quietly, Hook shuffling their group to the side as people catch up, bypassing them. They shift to the side of the road, huddling. “The fairies know where it is, but they can’t unlock it.”

“Rumple would have hidden the key in his manor,” Regina confirms, glancing at her brother. “Imagine if you didn’t have us.”

“I’d have made do,” he tilts his head. “A key?”

“I’ve dusted that entire place, if anyone could find it, I could,” Belle claims. Regina glances at her, wondering for a moment. _She was Rumple’s captive. Certainly, it’s an unfair way to discover your True Love. I suppose there could be no kinder way, for the Dark One._

“We’ll go,” Baelfire states, “Belle, me and Tinkerbell. We’ll find the key and the Vault.”

“Uh, no,” Regina narrows her eyes, “You swore on Henry’s life you wouldn’t. It’s a life for a life. You need to find someone other than yourself to trade.”

“Can we even make that choice?” Tink questions.

“Love, we’re planning to resurrect the Dark One,” Hook points out, “As soon as you got involved in this conversation, you agreed.”

“No, I didn’t,” Tink argues.

“Enough,” Regina states. “You can find the Vault without Tinkerbell’s help. Do you know how to create a locator spell?”

“Yes,” Belle and Baelfire say at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.

“Good,” Regina states, seeing Snow making her way back through the caravan towards them. “You can use it on the key, when you find it – but _after_ you have a volunteer, willing or not.”

“Take our horse,” Hook offers, “Despite his shortcomings, the Dark One sacrificed himself for us all and somehow managed to produce a fine set of spawn.”

Regina’s nose wrinkles as the reigns change hands, Baelfire offering Belle a hand up before he joins her. Looking up at her brother, she feels a small surge of latent panic, reaching for his wrist. _I can’t lose another person. I can’t be alone._

“Don’t get yourself killed,” she orders tersely. Baelfire smiles a little.

“If I’m not back before the months end, you have permission to hunt me down.”

“I’d do that anyway,” Regina replies, letting go of his wrist. “Good luck.”

Baelfire gently kicks the horse into action and Regina watches them leaves the path for a few moments before her attention redirects to Snow, as she comes to stand by them.

“Why did you stop? Where are they going?”

“To revive Rumple,” Regina replies, not delving deeper into the issue. “They’ll return, when they have.”

“Oh! I see, well, good luck to them,” Snow smiles, looking slightly strained. “You’re still coming with us?”

“Yes, Snow,” the Queen rolls her eyes, continuing on down the path, power-walking so as to catch up with the rabble. By the time she’s made it up to the front of the path, however, the familiar faces of her townspeople have reminded her of several instances in Storybrooke worth remembering – most involving Henry.

The pain of losing her son is worse than anything she’s ever felt. The single moment she can compare it to is seeing him in the hospital, dead because he believed – because he ate _her_ poisoned pastry. The guilt from that instance rises again inside her, pulsing and aching like an infected wound. Those years she spent in Leopold’s court before his death are why she isn’t crying in front of the peasants, wearing her grief for all to see.

 _I was allowed to cry one time._ Regina recalls the day, when her stomach had been swooping inside her, cramps she’d dismissed turning into waves of pain. Her legs had given out in front of the entire gathering – it was his fifty-eighth birthday. Her mother later said Regina had been lucky it hadn’t been his sixtieth, so three times as many people hadn’t seen her falter.

Regina wonders if Snow remembers. She hadn’t been told – precious Snow White, twelve at the time, yet still unaware of the duties of a princess and with no idea what it meant for a woman to collapse and bleed through her skirts. Regina had corrected that, less than a week later when Snow naively questioned what had _really_ happened at the party – barely managing to dodge explicitly stating how she’d had a miscarriage.

 _If she remembered now, she’d realise,_ Regina thinks, hand pressing against her the boning of her corset, too high to be mistaken for an expectant mother, but comforting all the same. _Lucy. Emma Lucy Mills. I suppose it’s close enough to be a homage to Henry. Emma Lucy. My daughter. Lucy._

Thinking about her doesn’t make the loss of Henry any less painful. It just makes it bittersweet.

“He was so happy,” Regina mutters to herself, forging along the path, all the way past David at the head of the procession, driving onwards.

“Regina! What’s the rush?”

“You’re all peasants!” she calls back, too much grief and hurt permeating her to come up with a better comeback.

“I’m a prince, thank-you!” David replies, calling after her. “The same way you’re a queen!”

Regina feels a genuine spike of anger then, actually stopping to turn around and glare at Snow’s _Charming._

“I am Regina Sofia Constanza Veronique of the Royal House of King Xavier. My father was Prince Henry Felipe Vicente Javier. I was _born_ into this life and while the lands I may have inherited from my father are paltry compared to the White Kingdom as a whole, I _am_ royal, unlike you, _shepherd_.”

David actually looks surprised at her words – however, Regina abruptly remembers that her father is _not_ Prince Henry, but the Dark One instead. Turning back to the front, she struggles to contain her emotions, continuing to walk onwards, slowing only slightly as to not leave the party behind. _All my family history that is not **my** family history_ , she thinks, wondering if Rumplestiltskin knows his grandparents’ grandparents.

 _I’m a bastard,_ she thinks in horror. _Did Daddy know? It would only be fitting – hilarious, an embarrassment – that the seventh son’s child, a bastard borne from the Darkest being in the land rather than his own seed. Mother couldn’t even keep it in her pants. I even have a sister, who was given up and sent to another land, envious of everything Mother did to me._

“You shouldn’t be so mean to David,” Snow’s quiet, gentle voice comes from her right. Regina scowls at her.

“He shouldn’t presume that everyone seduced their way to power. I bet your idiot husband even thinks my marriage was a happy one.”

“Seeing as I told him you killed my father, I would hope not,” Snow replies and the simplicity of her statement startles a surprised laugh out of Regina. “There you go.”

“Oh, I’m broken, Snow,” Regina laughs again, unable to stop, feeling herself cracking. She breathes in sharply, veering off into the woods, Snow following her as she hurries away from the procession. Faintly, she hears David call for them, his wife hurriedly telling him to continue on as she follows Regina into the woods.

She can’t see them in her periphery anymore when she finally stops against a tree, crumpling onto a handy fallen log. Her face is wet with tears and her hands are shaking as Snow takes them in her own, holding them tightly as Regina breaks.

“I don’t- I don’t want you as- as a _support unit_ ,” Regina gets out, voice clogged. “I hate you.”

“Ditto, Regina.”

“Don’t- don’t _ditto_ me. I’m the mother of your grandchild.”

“All the more reason to support you,” Snow replies. She’s just so… _blasé_ about everything. “I know what you’re going through, Regina. I just said goodbye to my daughter – for the second time. Henry, too. The fact that you raised him probably makes it so much worse, actually.”

“Yes, it does. Go away.”

“No. You need me.”

“I need _Henry,_ I need my _son._ ” Regina curls over on herself, arms wrapping around her stomach as she shuts her eyes, trying to feel the one thing she has left. _Lucy. Lucy, my baby girl. Even having you doesn’t help the pain of losing Henry._

“It’ll get better.”

“No, it won’t.”

“It will. Not now, not tomorrow – but next week, or the week after. The month after, even. You need time, Regina.”

“You never had to process this,” Regina looks up. “You lost your child and got her back after a thirty-year long nightmare you weren’t aware was happening.”

“I _gave_ _up_ my baby,” Snow says, voice firm, yet…wavering. “I gave up a toddler and a kid and a teenager and a young adult. I gave up the possibility of that with her – but I didn’t _lose_ her. I didn’t lose _my child_. Emma is a wonderful person and I love her _so_ much. She will always be my child and now I’ve lost her, just like you lost Henry.”

But Regina isn’t in a hospitable mood, feeling that age-old anger in her. She spits, “You made Maleficent give up her everything, too. She’s going to live with that pain for thousands of years, Snow White. How do you feel about that? About causing that pain?”

“More regret than you do over Emma, I’d imagine,” Snow whispers, eyes hurt but her stance unwavering. “Emma brought you Henry. Would have brought you Veronique Swan.”

A different type of laughter bubbles out of her throat. “Right. Veronique. Roni. The one who’s younger by a week. It happened, you know, on the town line – I made sure of it.”

Snow’s eyes widen. “You what?”

Regina sits up straight, wiping her face delicately, deciding that enough is enough. “You heard. I think I did, at least – Emma left magical land soon after, however. It might not have taken.”

“But…but Lucy said she was a week older,” Snow says weakly, standing shakily. “Regina…”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Snow. Not right now,” Regina sniffs, waving her hand in front of her face, magic flowing over her features easily. “Is my face on?”

“Yes, but Regina-”

“Good. I’ve had enough of crying,” she says, before walking back. She hears a loud rustle, before Snow stops.

“Did you hear that? There was something there, in that bush.”

Regina turns back around, backtracking to where Snow stares at the bush in question. Checking it, she finds nothing.

“There’s nothing here, unless it flew away.”

“It did!” Snow exclaims, before something screams at them from the air. That 'something' flies down, swiping at them before retreating back to the sky. “We need to find cover!”


	12. Chapter 12

_ The Enchanted Forest _

“Milady, you’re injured,” the forest-man reaches out to help her up, but Regina stays out of reach.

“It’s _Your Majesty_ ,” she impresses upon him, “and I’m fine.”

“A simple thank-you would suffice.”

“We didn’t ask for your help.”

Snow clears her throat, taking his hand. “Well, I’m grateful for the assistance.” He pulls her up as Regina gets to her feet on her own.

“Robin, Robin of Locksley,” he introduces himself and his companions as they shake. “And these are a few of my Merry Men.”

“Snow White.”

“At last, we meet. You know, there was a time when our faces graced Wanted posters side by side.”

“If you’re really Snow White,” one of his more rotund companions questions, “why are you with her?”

“Her?” Regina glares at him, scathing. “Show some respect – or at least some restraint at the buffet.”

“You’ll have to excuse Little John, but before you cursed this land we spent many a day running from your Black Knights,” Robin says, watching her like she’s some interesting animal or mark.

“Well, I’m sure you deserved it,” Regina replies shortly, before looking up at the sky. “What the hell was that thing?”

“I have no idea. We’ve never encountered the likes of it before,” Robin admits.

“Come on,” Snow starts, “this way. We need to warn the others.”

They head back to the group, David expressing concern over Regina and then over their companions before Snow explains what just happened.

“And Belle and Baelfire just left,” David groans. “What if they’re attacked by these strange demons?”

“Baelfire? He was with your group?” Robin questions.

“He’s my brother,” Regina replies, before explaining the circumstances tiredly. “The Dark One is dead, but he can be revived, so Baelfire went off with Belle – the Dark One’s lover.”

“Your step-mother?” Robin questions, eyebrow rising.

Snow snorts a little as Regina glares at him. “ _No._ They aren’t married.”

“Yet,” Granny Lucas adds from behind David, not contributing to Regina’s mood. Regina glares moodily at the woman, who smirks at her. “There’s no shame in it, Your Majesty. They’re a good match and you would do well from having another authoritive figure in your life.”

“Excuse me?” Regina exclaims in disbelief, while everyone surrounding her laughs and chortles. Cheeks reddening, the Queen glares at Robin, who started this entire mess. He, however, is giggling a bit himself.

“To hell with you all!” Regina begins a transportation spell to bring her to her castle – _it’s so close, anyway –_ but as soon as she disappears, she is rebuffed by her very own wards, which have been tainted and _taken_. The result, however, is being thrown back near to her starting base, the laughter abruptly ending as she’s thrown into a nearby tree, head cracking up against the wood.

“Regina!” Snow exclaims, racing sideways to grasp her arms as she goes to slide to the ground, holding her up against the tree. “What happened?”

“My castle- someone’s taken _my_ castle,” Regina hisses, more in pain than in anger. Pins are digging into her head hard enough she can feel the torn skin and the bump from slamming her head against a tree was bad enough she whited out for a moments. Even now, she’s seeing stars. Pulling at her magic, she summons all her accessories into her hand in a small cloud of purple, hair tumbling around her shoulders – long, once again. Snow is quick to check for bleeding, hand coming away red.

“Your transportation spell backfired.”

“I deflected off the shields. I am having an abominable day, Snow.”

“You are,” Snow nods, not even bothering to keep the mood happy, obviously _terribly_ worried about her head. Regina wonders whether or not she has an off-switch in her head, for moments like these, blinking slowly as she hears her name being called. “-Regina! You’re scaring me! David, I think she’s really hurt-”

Closing her eyes to block out Snow’s impetuous whining, Regina only cracks them open when she feels herself being lifted up, the quick movement sending the blood rushing to her head. She wrinkles her nose at the forest-y smell of the thief, Robin, who has deigned _touch_ her, as she winces.

“Put me down.”

“Inadvisable, Your Majesty. You look a moment away from fainting,” he claims. Regina debates the merits of asking Snow to carry her instead, but decides she’d rather be carried by someone who still has the strength to do it. “Would the lady prefer a horse, cart or arms of her saviour?”

 _Saviour_. Regina latches onto the word. “Emma.”

“…who?”

“She’s the Saviour. You aren’t the Saviour,” Regina tries to get him to understand. “Emma is a princess. She’s mine.”

“You have a daughter?” Robin questions confusedly.

Regina scowls, fully opening her eyes to look at him. “No, I wouldn’t have children with her, if that was the case.”

“ _Right_ ,” Robin clears his throat, looking into her eyes. “You most definitely have a concussion, Your Majesty. Any secrets to divulge?”

“I’m terrified. I want my son. He’s never going to remember who I am.” Light spears her eyes as the leaves disappear from the tree – or maybe it’s the trees that disappear. Whatever it is, it’s too bright. Regina shuts her eyes gladly, feeling rather tired all of a sudden, the kind of tired where you can slip into sleep easily as breathing…

“Your Majesty, wake up!”

* * *

Her head is pounding and someone is running their fingers through her hair. The sensation is so strange that Regina doesn’t immediately react, other than stiffening.

“Are you awake?” Tinkerbell’s voice questions softly. “It’s just me, Tink.”

“Tinkerbell,” Regina mumbles, opening her eyes slowly, sitting up with Tinkerbell’s help. They’re on the ground, lying on a green blanket. “What-”

“A very bad concussion. You’ve been asleep a few hours. I managed to gather some fairies that were deposited nearby and we healed you, though I owe Auburn and Saffron favours.”

She remembers being held. Regina looks around, recognising the clearing some half kilometre from the crossroads. _The wards._ “You couldn’t get past the barrier, could you?”

“You were right, your wards were hijacked,” Tink confirms, before Hook’s familiar voice rings out.

“Not much of a sorceress, are you? Or is this just your extremely unlucky day?”

“Let’s go with unlucky, before I turn murderous.” Regina watches him put his hands up briefly, too tired to glare.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Tink says quietly. Regina glances at her in a querying fashion. “Your daughter. I didn’t realise until we were healing you, but it’s there – strong, fiery.”

“She has an affinity for storms,” Regina replies, swallowing, reaching up to her hair, wincing at feeling crusted blood there. “Well, there goes my shower this morning.”

“I’m going to miss modern conveniences,” Tink says.

“I agree,” Regina adds. “What are we doing, waiting here?”

“Snow didn’t want to move you. Robin agreed and they press-ganged the townsfolk into agreeing.”

“At least Snow is good for something,” Regina tilts her head, wincing at the slight rush. “You didn’t fully heal me.”

“No, that’s inadvisable – we were using your own magic to heal you, after all, directing it in your place. That’s how fairy healing works. Once it caught on, it couldn’t be rushed any further.”

“Right.”

Regina looks back at Tink’s lap, deciding to give up on propriety, if people had seen her like this for several hours now. Tink seems happy enough to return to her previous activity, talking to Hook quietly as Regina covertly spies on their little encampment.

More people have arrived, obviously. More townsfolk are there along with Robin’s peasants. What captures her attention is the young boy meandering through the campsite, hopping like a rabbit every so often. He’s young, maybe three or four years old and while it’s painful to think of Henry, to be reminded of him, remembering her son at that age is a soft comfort.

After a little while of watching him, Regina asks Tink who he is.

“That’s Roland,” the fairy says, smiling slightly. “As is, Robin and Roland, like Lucy’s tale in Neverland.”

Regina sucks in a breath, sitting up a little, staring at the boy. “Really?”

“Really,” Hook confirms, “Tink had me doing reconnaissance with the Merry Men. Made me make up a story about wanting to be a father to a young boy, one day, with a sob story about fairies and girl babes.”

“So, the truth,” Regina glances at the pirate, who rolls his eyes, sipping at a flask. Regina sits up a little more, leaning against Tink, holding out her hand. Hook pauses, before passing it over. Regina doesn’t hesitate to sip some, grimacing at the taste but welcoming the alcohol. Luckily, Leopold preferred meads to ‘seamen liquor’, as he called it – she has no bad memories to cloud her use of it.

A sudden shriek comes from the sky and the entire camp look to find the source. Regina sees the beast – the same one or type of one that listened to her conversation with Snow earlier. Getting up, ignoring the pounding in her head, Regina summons a fireball as it swoops down, knocking over a pile of supplies, heading right for them.

However, between it and them, is Roland of Locksley.

“Roland!” Robin cries, shooting at the beast as he runs towards his son. _He’s not going to make it,_ Regina realises, before she darts forwards, fireball turning into a transfiguration. It hits the flying beast and a toy goes tumbling to the ground in front of them both as Regina sweeps him up into her arms.

“Roland, oh, gods,” Robin is quick to take him from her, the boy crying and wailing. Regina picks up the toy, brushing the dirt off it, frowning at the bird-monkey hybrid her enchantment wrought upon the beast. “Thank-you,” the archer says, clutching his boy tightly.

“It was nothing,” Regina waits for Roland to calm a little before getting his attention at an opportune moment, tapping his shoulder a few times and meeting his eyes when he cranks them open. “Hello. There’s nothing to be scared of. Now you even have a new toy,” Regina holds up the transfigured beast, smiling at the young boy. He sniffles but reaches out, taking the toy from her, pressing it between himself and his father. “There we go,” she murmurs softly, reaching over to pat his head gently.

“You’re good with children,” Robin notes with a little surprise. “How old are yours?”

Regina glances up, slightly wary before recalling she’d said something to him. Presuming he means _are yours_ in the possessive form, she answers.

“My son, Henry, is turning twelve.” Regina steps back a little, addressing him rather than his son.

“And he is with Emma, this Saviour? His…other mother?”

“Yes, he is,” Regina replies, narrowing her eyes at his odd tone. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Robin frowns, “I just wonder why you aren’t all together. You and your family. Earlier, you said you had children. Is Henry the only-”

“It’s complicated,” Regina interrupts him. “And private. We should be focusing on getting into my castle.”

 _Where is Snow?_ She questions, looking around, finding a small swarm of people heading their way. Shifting slightly, Regina waits for them, discussing the attack, watching Robin in her periphery. _Orphans of war, Lucy said_ , Regina remembers. _What war, however? What fight? This one? Roland isn’t old enough to understand death at this age._

“What the hell was that thing?” David questions.

“The same kind of monster that attacked us on our journey here,” Snow says, before the dour-faced dwarf, Leroy or Grumpy or whatever his name is, adds his suspicions

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it looked an awful lot like a monkey.”

“A monkey with wings?” David scoffs, before it finally clicks in Regina’s mind.

“Yes,” she breathes, remembering when Henry was four and they watched it for the first time. _He refused to watch anything else for weeks,_ she recalls almost fondly, despite how each of the songs and Dorothy’s perky voice had been seared into her brain. “That’s exactly what it is.”

“What place could produce winged monkeys?” Tink questions.

“The Land of Oz,” Regina replies.

“Oz?” Snow questions, surprised, “That’s a real place?”

“Indeed. It’s quite real,” Regina nods, glancing at Roland in Robin’s arms, still holding the soft toy tightly, in his silence. “If our simian friend is any indication, then I think we know _exactly_ who’s taken up residence in our castle…the Wicked Witch.”

She expects a little more fear, rather than Grumpy’s stark query. “We talking East or West?”

“Does it matter?” Snow asks, “Neither one sounds good.”

“One you drop a house on. The other one you toss a bucket of water at,” Grumpy says, causing Regina to scoff and come up with a witty repartee, but David beats her to the punch.

“So, Regina, what are we up against besides green skin and a pointy hat? What did you do to her?” he starts, causing everyone to look at her.

At their expectant faces, Regina laughs. “This time? Nothing. Never-” Regina stops suddenly, her earlier conversation with David prompting another man’s words to return to her.

_Her name was Zelena. I trained her, like I did you. Only she was **green** with envy._

“What did you do to her?” David repeats his question, sighing.

“…you can blame my mother for this one.”

* * *

In the distance, Belle can see the walls, surrounding the manor. A peculiar feeling rises in her chest, a warmth that says _home_ , except it’s not – not when Rumple’s not there. The cold, snowy wind batters her face over Baelfire’s shoulder and her ankles, as well, so she tucks them in as much as she can, ignoring how the snow melts on her cheeks. _We can do this,_ she thinks.

“Excuse me!” someone calls. Belle looks up, finding the source. The man is tall and lanky, auburn hair whipping in the wind around his face. “Hello?”

“Who goes there?” Baelfire calls out.

The man steps forwards out of the treeline onto the path, pulling his jacket around himself tightly, not at all dressed for the weather.

“My name is Walsh. I hail from a far warmer realm than this! Do you happen to have any spare supplies, friends?”

“We haven’t got more than food, water and a bedroll,” Baelfire says apologetically. “But we’re heading for my father’s castle, if you need shelter.”

“Shelter would be good!” Walsh comes closer and Belle pities him for his shivering, reaching behind her to undo the horse-blanket. He grins at her when she hands it over. “Thank-you, milady! So, where do you and your husband head?”

“We’re not married,” Belle shakes her head. “I’m…” Baelfire glances back at her and they share a short funny look, before Belle gives up on long explanations. “I’m his step-mother.”

Walsh raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you a bit young?”

“Trust me when I say I am a _lot_ older than I look,” Baelfire states, “My father and I enjoy semi-immortality, depending on circumstance. That’s his castle, there.”

Walsh glances forwards, but doesn’t react otherwise, causing Belle to frown. Usually, the prospect of going to the lair of the Dark One… _well, anything associated with him is taboo._ Hiding her face slightly in Baelfire’s shoulder, she continues to frown, eyeing Walsh carefully, arms tucking tighter around Baelfire’s torso.

_Does he not know? Who is he? Even far-off lands know of the Dark One…_

Belle hums, making a note in her mind to find out exactly what land Walsh hails from.


	13. Chapter 13

_ The Land of Oz – the Past _

Paging through the tome, the Witch of the East ponders the future. She knows that time is far from a metaphorical river or tree. Realities with different fates run side by side, those realities each to their own destiny. _The journey is half the fun, as they say._

“Time is a pool. Waves overlap and ripple, but nothing leaves the pool. Everything is contained.”

Glinda across the table raises an eyebrow. “An interesting philosophy, Colette.”

Cody gives Glinda the stink-eye over the Book of Records. “It’s not philosophy. It’s the metaphorical explanation for a concept too hard to explain in any other format – and I’ve told you, my name is Cody.”

“And risk others finding out?” Aloisia questions, leaning back in her chair, snacking on a biscuit. “No, sister-ours.”

“Colette Gold, Cody Scarlet…a strange pseudonym name, considering you take blue as yours,” Glinda notes.

“Blue is my favourite colour,” Cody defends, hand going to her necklace, hidden under a layer of lace fabric, “and you know, in the stories it’s the West who-”

“Untrue, as the slippers are silver, you know this,” Aloisia replies, brushing her yellow-orange kanga dress of crumbs. “We must wait and you must not tell us what you know, time traveller. In any case, we are a circle.”

“And yet, we are not in traditional order, failing to mimic a colour wheel,” Cody notes, eyeing Glinda’s pink-red monstrosity. “I hate symbolism. What happens when West joins us? Do we return to black and white, to grow and find our alignment once more? I have grown too much to simply give up being East-Blue.”

“Maybe, by the time West joins us, you shall need to start afresh,” Glinda offers. “You are young yet, Colette.”

Cody sighs. “You know, my family never called me Cody Scarlet.”

“We are not your family,” Aloisia smiles slightly. “Perhaps you should simply forget it.”

“Being Scarlet?” Cody queries, waiting for her nod before continuing. “No. It’s the name of a friend. A homage, if you will.”

“What are you looking for, in there?” Glinda questions suddenly, peering at the Book of Records. Cody glances at her, before smirking.

“You think I’d tell you? I’m your little secret-keeper, after all, aren’t I? I’m simply looking for…a certain poem. That’s all you need to know.” Cody looks down at the book, turning the page and finally finding what she’d been looking for. Finger running down the faded ink, she finds the line of the Great Prophecy which needs changed.

 _And_ _the west shall cometh,  
In a green t'rnado to the landeth of Oz;_

_H'r charm shall beest stout,  
And the lady shalt taketh a seat at the table;_

_Completing the circle and coven,  
Banishing the Dark One's issue from the realm f’rev’r. _

“Utter tripe,” Cody murmurs, running her thumb along that last line, magic picking and fading the ink. Reaching for her quill on the table, she carefully adjusts the comma after the word _coven_ , to create a full stop.

“Something wrong, East?”

Cody glances up at Glinda, giving a small smile. “Nothing, South. Nothing at all.”

* * *

_ Storybrooke – Now _

“Do you think they’ll show up?” Tink questions Killian, sipping her coffee. The pirate shrugs, shifting so he can put his feet up on the bench beside Tink. Across from her, he has more room to lie back, reaching forwards occasionally to grab a vinegar-soaked chip. “What if they don’t show up?”

“Emma and Henry will show up, love.” Killian promises, eyeing her clothes. “You adapted well to this new world.”

“Regina ordered me to go on a shopping spree in New York,” Tink shrugs. “I was supposed to bring you as well, but you were indisposed.”

“I was seeing that lady of the night, yes,” Killian tilts his head, remembering how she came back with dozens of bags after the woman left. “What do you call them in the day, to be polite? I’m told referring to woman of such a career as whores is rude.”

“You hired a prostitute?” Grumpy questions, interrupting their conversation. “I thought you two were together!”

“We’re in an open relationship, dwarf,” Killian replies with a fake smile. “Now why don’t you toddle off on out of our business, aye?” The dwarf gives him a short look, but leaves. A look at Tink, however, shows that she’s far more affected than he is by the dwarf’s interrupted.

“Hey,” he starts, feet coming down off the bench so he can lean closer to her, over the table. “Don’t listen to the rabble, love. We do what we like.”

“I know, I know, I just…don’t you want to be with someone who can give you what you need? I know I’m not fond of all that, most of the time-” Tink motions to him, not meeting his eyes, but Killian reaches over, taking her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“I’m yours. You’re mine. That’s all that matters.” Killian waits for a moment, for his words to sink in, before letting go, offering her a chip. She wrinkles her nose, batting it away and he grins, waving it in front of her face.

“Killian, stop.”

“Aw, you’re hurting its feelings, love!”

“I don’t like the taste-” he cuts her off with a kiss, half standing so as to reach her over the table.

* * *

Watching Hook and Tinkerbell making out in front of the entire diner, Regina senses eyes on her and manages to track them to a newcomer two bar-stools down from her. When Regina pinpoints them, they – _she_ , Regina corrects – looks away, back to her drink.

“Something interesting about my face?” Regina question her. The young woman glances over at her again, tucking her hair behind her ear. A rather unrecognisable face, considering – but she actually looks vaguely comfortable in her modern clothes compared to some people, who fidget and tug at the fabric of jeans and lined jackets. Regina thinks she might have seen her around the diner recently, helping Ruby with listing the other newcomers.

“You just look…familiar. I don’t know why,” she says. “Who are you?”

Regina raises an eyebrow, “You don’t know?”

The other woman scowls at her, “The last thing I remember was infiltrating the Emerald City. The Witch hadn’t been seen in several months.”

“The Emerald City? As in _Oz,_ Emerald City?” Regina raises an eyebrow, remembering when Henry was four and they watched it for the first time. _He refused to watch anything else for weeks_ , she recalls almost fondly, despite how each of the songs and Dorothy’s perky voice had been seared into her brain.

“Yes,” the woman says. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Right,” Regina shifts in her seat, reaching over to shake. “Regina Mills, Mayor of Storybrooke – I was known as the Evil Queen in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Dorothy Gale, Good Witch of the West,” Dorothy shakes her hand firmly, pleasantly surprising the Queen. “I was from Kansas, before I came to Oz.”

“I know,” Regina says, before they each take their hands back. “There are books in this realm about you, probably mostly inaccurate, but the basics are there. This is actually America, probably some decades after you lived, even if it’s not the exact realm.”

“My realm was…strange,” Dorothy replies. “People from Oz looked like they belonged in brown photographs. If you’re really from the Enchanted Forest, then you would look different in Kansas.”

“I see. Very intriguing. Doctor Whale had a similar experience, I believe – Rumple said he came from a black and white world,” Regina recalls, before abruptly flinching, remembering how her mentor – _my father_ – is dead, again.

“Something wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Regina grimaces slightly. “A…an old friend, he died shortly before our memories were erased.”

“Sorry for your loss.”

Regina waves her off, before her eyes drift over Dorothy’s shoulder to the window, where she sees a flash of yellow through the blinds. Heart jumping, Regina gets to her feet, hurriedly saying _excuse me_ , before she leaves the diner. Going to the edge of the pavement, she looks down the road to see the Bug in its horrid yellow glory.

For a moment, she expects Emma to exit the drivers seat, before Robin and Little John get out, Robin reaching inside for a clambering Roland coming through the gap between the seats.

“Where did you get the car?” Regina calls after a moment. Little John looks over, Robin a second behind him as they shut the car doors.

“I woke up with the keys in my pocket,” Robin replies, “memories of another life are in my head, rather faint and not all sensical. I even have a house. It’s all too strange.” They make their way over. “I was hoping to get dinner here. Roland likes it.”

“Only because Aunty Gina!” Roland exclaims, Regina feeling mildly under pressure at his words. He clutches a stuffed toy in his hand, which is rather dirty and Regina gets the urge to stuff it in her washing machine before she manages to tamp it down. “Can we take pictures again, _please!_ ”

“Maybe later,” Regina says, looking to Robin. “Would there be any chance I could take that car off your hands at some point, indefinitely?”

“Once I have another mode of transportation, of course,” Robin nods, shifting Roland on his hip, who wriggles to be put down. “Alright, alright…”

Regina rather expects the bullet-like child to approach her, at this point – he makes a point of doing so every time they’ve seen each other, over the past few days since…since returning from wherever they were, the Enchanted Forest, most likely. The fact that he doesn’t is mildly concerning and she watches as he instead stands in front of her, looking up with wide eyes.

“Where’s Lucy, Aunt Gina? I want to see her.”

Regina swallows, “She’s with the bad woman. The one you’ve been showing me, remember?” Crouching in front of him, Regina pushes her sleeve up slightly to show the tattoo around her wrists. They bloom in proximity with the boy, twisting slightly and losing transparency. “Roland, can you tell me how I got this?”

“I don’t know,” he says, before taking her hand. “Can we get dinner?”

“Of course we can,” Regina tries not to sound disappointed, standing up again and leading him into Granny’s after a glance at Robin, for permission.

Regina doesn’t know why Roland trusts her so much – she doesn’t know how she could have developed a relationship with a boy so young, when she had lost Henry. Robin is another story – he has the lion tattoo, he’s her _soulmate_ and according to Tinkerbell, that means something. _At least I **didn’t** ruin his life,_ she thinks back to Tink’s depressing little speech in Neverland, untrue if Robin’s experiences can be trusted.

Respectively, Robin seems to be a decent person. He might be a thief and a wanted figure in her kingdom for his various illegal exploits, but he’s a good father and a leader that his Merry Men respect. _Platonic, all the way. Are we friends? Companions?_ Regina doesn’t really understand how their paths would cross in the first place. _He smells like forest._

Making her way up the path back to Granny’s, Regina almost misses the second car driving past, but she spares it a glance anyway – if the Bug is here, then most definitely, Emma doesn’t have it. To her surprise, it’s her own Mercedes, which keeps going up the street, turning into an empty parking space.

“C’mon, Gina,” Roland tugs her hand and Regina looks away from her car, not looking. _They don’t remember any of it. Emma thinks I’m her wife._ Going into Granny’s, she sees Dorothy again at the bar, who raises an eyebrow at the child clinging to her.

“Roland,” Regina questions as Little John goes to steal them a booth, pointing at Dorothy, “Do you know her?”

Roland looks over, nose wrinkling adorably. “Dorothy. She’s got a doggy.”

“Let’s sit down, Ro,” Regina nods at his confirmation, preparing to interrogate him – gently – as they sit down behind Tinkerbell, who twists around at the sight of them.

“Hello again, Robin.”

“Miss Tinkerbell,” Robin nods his head, “how nice to see you again. Have you any more theories as to how my son has a tattoo, yet?”

“No, unfortunately. It’s nice to see you all together, though,” Tink smiles, before turning back around. Regina rolls her eyes, helping Roland take his coat and hat off, tucking them between him and the wall.

“You’re good with him,” Robin remarks.

“I have children,” Regina states.

“Where are they?” Little John questions, stopping Roland from playing with the sugar packets.

“Well,” Regina smiles sweetly, “one has been taken by a mystery evil witch, who more than likely cursed us here again and the other remembers an alternate life where I’m married to his birth mother, which is entirely fake, by the way. Either way, neither of them are here. I also have a third child, who has likewise been living a fake life with her brother and other mother and who I have never met – not _once_.”

Little John falls silent at that, but Robin frowns. “A sad story. Roland’s mother too, was taken from me, in a rather more permanent fashion.”

“My condolences. May I ask how?”

“I inadvertently put her in harms way,” Robin says, before Little John elbows him slightly. “Anyway. You’re good with Roland. How old were yours?”

“Henry is-” Regina hesitates, counting, “…twelve. I think. If it was just a year we lost. Turning thirteen. My daughter is a few months old.”

“A few months?” Robin’s frown deepens. “A truly sad tale then. I will endeavour to help you retrieve her, if the one who took her truly cursed us here.”

“…thank-you,” Regina says, before Ruby comes up to their table with a notepad. “Ruby.”

“Madam Mayor,” she greets, smiling, “Coffee?”

“You know how I like it,” Regina tilts her head. “And fries.”

“I’ll get a basket,” Ruby says, looking to the men. “What would you gentlemen like?”

“I…” Robin grabs the menu quickly, finding the drinks and scanning it, brow furrowing. “I don’t know. I know nothing of these things.”

“Do you mind if I?” Regina questions, getting his attention. Quickly, he nods and Regina plucks the menu from his grasp, scanning it quickly. “Two coffees for the men and an orange juice for Roland. Steak, chicken or beef burger?” she asks them.

They exchange a glance, “Chicken will suffice.”

“Awesome,” Ruby notes it down, “and the little guy? Would you like some chicken nuggets, short-stack?”

“What are chicken nuggets?” Roland questions.

“You’ll find out,” Regina assures him, nodding to Ruby before returning the menu to its stand. “Put it on my tab, Ruby.”

“Sure!”

“So, this ‘modern world’ is rather complicated,” Robin states conflictedly. “I know how to drive a…car, but I don’t know whether or not I really like my steak medium-rare.”

“You’ve got time to figure it out. I know it can be disorientating. I was like you – I had the know-how but not the experience. Everyone else under the first curse wasn’t aware of their true nature, so they didn’t contest what I put in their heads.”

“How long?”

“Thirty years, or thereabouts.”

Robin shakes his head, before Roland tugs on Regina’s jacket. “Gina, can we take pictures again?”

“Sure,” Regina takes out her phone, just in time to get a text from Granny.

**GRANNY: Emma’s back. Just booked a room in the inn with Henry. I’m in the back room. Can hear them talking about where you might be. What should I tell them?**

Sucking in a breath, Regina takes a moment to compose her thoughts before replying, ignoring Roland as he asks for the camera.

**REGINA: Invite her through to the diner for food. It goes on my tab.**

“I’ve got to go,” Regina says, “Apologies.” Standing, she detaches Roland from her coat. “Something came up. Cancel my order for me – just tell Ruby.”

“Alright. Is everything okay?” Robin asks, getting out of his seat to take Roland as he tries to keep his grasp on her. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” Regina insists, before Granny texts her back.

**GRANNY: They’re putting their bags away. You don’t have long to jump ship, your Majesty.**

“I’ve got to go,” she repeats, before going out the back – not expecting Henry to come through the door between the B&B and Diner. Stopping still, she stares at him and he stares at her.

“Mom,” he says, voice strangled, cracking. Regina continues to drink him in. “You’re…you’re really alive.”

“…you’re so tall.” It’s so strange, to know it’s been a year yet having only felt like they’d spent four days apart. His face has changed, he _is_ taller and his voice is cracking. His striped scarf is still around his neck, lankier arms than before covered by long flannel sleeves.

One of his arms is stuck straight, shoulders uneven as he rests a plastic baby carrier against his leg. _Roni_ , Regina thinks, unable to see more than a dark purple knit blanket. _She really had a baby. Like me._

Regina thinks of what she’d seen that first evening, back in Storybrooke, after going back to her empty mansion, having spent the entire day talking to the Charmings. She’d undressed, looked at herself in the mirror and seen her scarred stomach. Long purple lines stretched up around her belly-button and hip-bones. It had terrified her.

Not that she hadn’t known Lucy was missing, after seeing Snow, so largely pregnant.

“ _Henry_ ,” she hears Emma’s voice, “ _where are you, kiddo? The old lady said we could go through a side-door._ ”

“Mom,” Henry calls – calling for Emma, this time – still standing in the doorway. “Mom, over here. I’m- _we’re_ here.”

“ _We?_ ” The click of heels comes before the person. Then, Emma is there, behind Henry, wearing a black rain-proof jacket that deflects the light and a skirt, with tights and heels.

 _I transferred my fashion sense to her,_ Regina thinks in that moment, of all things to think about.

Then, of course, Emma sees Regina, eyes widening. Henry glances back at her, sniffing quietly, rubbing his nose as he steps out of the way. Emma moves. Regina accepts the collision, seeing the look in her eyes. Hugs allow her to hide her face – but not from Henry, who sees her staring at him, him and the baby carrier, even as she hugs Emma just as tightly as Emma does.

She didn’t expect the tears.

“You were dead. You were _dead_.” Emma sobs and Regina wants to know how Emma sees her if this is the kind of reaction she has when Regina is not-dead. _How did I even give her these memories? I wasn’t even thinking about this kind of scenario – I wanted to put Emma in my life as Henry’s mother._

That thought sparks something in Regina’s mind, however. Immediately, she shuts her eyes, because _of course I did._ It’s not her fault her magic filled in the blanks, using the most likely scenario it could come up with considering it had two true loves on its hands – even if Regina doesn’t like that phrase, even if Regina always thought Daniel was her true love. _Emma was put into my life, but not as me. She was put in as a separate person. Two people raising Henry. Henry remembers his own equivalent._

“I missed you so much,” Emma squeezes again before pulling back only slightly, thumb tracing the strange red scar on the side of her jaw, deep and still red with healing. “What happened? We thought you died in the fire, Regina.”

“I wasn’t there,” Regina says truthfully, Emma’s brow furrowing. “I don’t know what happened. I just know I was never there. There’s a blank spot of a year and even then, I don’t think I remember what you do. Things are…strange.”

“Jones and Green said you had a baby – you had Lucy,” Emma smiles a little, trembling. Her hand cups Regina’s jaw and it’s a strange sensation, one she’s not felt in a long time – not this way. Regina doesn’t know what to do. _Emma has a superpower,_ she forces herself to remember, _you can’t lie. Only twist the truth._

“I did, I must have. I’ve got the scars to prove it, even if I don’t remember,” Regina agrees, before bringing her hand up to Emma’s hair, tucking a free-hanging lock that’s not in her ponytail behind her ear. “I don’t remember much at all about us, Emma, not our relationship, not more than…” she trails off, inwardly wincing at the expression on Emma’s face. “I’m sorry.”

“No- no, it’s okay, we’ll help you out, you’ll remember us eventually,” Emma nods, assuring her. Regina’s lip curls wryly, before she takes Emma’s chin, kissing her gently, expecting Emma to take it further.

Emma though, Emma as usual does the unexpected. She cradles Regina’s face in two hands, taking control but not turning it into a hot, possessive mess like Regina thought she would. Their tongues slip and slide around the others and Regina has to end it because it’s too much – it’s too gentle, it’s too emotional. It seems unfair to lead this Emma on, who adores her and has been mourning her for the last twelve months.

Emma is crying. Regina swallows, wiping them away quickly and precisely. “Come on, Miss Swan, tears?”

Her face is priceless. “You haven’t called me that for-” Emma stops herself, grinning and kissing Regina again, happily and excitedly, a press of lips to lips. Regina can see her lipstick smeared around Emma’s mouth – or maybe it’s Emma’s, because it’s too pink to be just her dark red. As if hearing her thoughts, Emma scrapes her thumb around Regina’s lip, a more intimate, _domestic_ gesture than Regina expected.

“I didn’t change it when you died, by the way – we’re still hyphenated,” Emma says. “Me, I mean, though Henry’s trying to make a case for it for himself. We never got around to it though, especially with Roni. He’s still just Henry Swan.”

“Roni, she…” Regina starts, trailing off as Henry approaches, unabashedly offering them a baby-wipe each. Regina is quick to use it, disposing of it quickly in a nearby bin, Emma copying her before taking the baby-carrier from him. She crouches, putting it on the ground, checking on the child inside. Rampant curiosity overwhelms Regina and she goes down, too, peering at her.

Veronique Swan has a dark tan to her skin like Regina and her mother’s relatives – darker than Regina did as a child, so maybe it’s a throwback. Her hair is a deep brown like Regina’s, hidden a little by the ridiculous giraffe onesie she’s been put in. Regina looks at her tiny hand, balled up in sleep and how her skin bunches under her chin.

“Hello,” she mumbles.

“I’d let you say hello properly, but she only got to sleep an hour ago,” Emma says. “She’ll sleep like the dead for a little while longer.”

“She’s beautiful, Emma.”

“Thank-you. She came a little early, but she’s a fighter,” Emma reaches in, stroking her nose. Regina nods, before looking to Henry, standing up again and wasting no time in hugging him tightly. He accepts her eagerly and it really, _really_ hits her that he’s here, in her arms – but it _has_ been a _whole entire year_.

He doesn’t fit the same way and it breaks her heart.


	14. Chapter 14

Storybrooke is a lot different from New York. Henry feels all sort of exposed in Storybrooke, with no tall buildings to protect him from…whatever. But there’s a less oppressive atmosphere in the seaside town and the people are really, really, _really_ friendly. It must be a pretty small town, too, because over half of the people he sees says hello to him by name.

They say _hello Henry_ and _good to see you, Henry._ More than once, though, he’s gotten a _welcome back, Henry_ – but after some man with his friends said it, a bearded dude in a hat hit him and it never happened again. It’s kind of weird and if Henry hadn’t known he’d grown up in Boston his whole life, he would have thought that maybe he’d been here, when he was a toddler or something, maybe when there were less people. At least he’d enjoyed his walk, while his Moms tried to track down whoever kidnapped his baby sister, Lucy.

“Here,” the old woman from the B&B – now working behind the diner bar – offers him a mug. “Hot cocoa with cinnamon, from Ruby, on the house.”

“I love cinnamon,” Henry smiles, a little confused as he looks to the tall waitress. “How did you know?”

She laughs a little nervously, before shrugging. “You just…have a cinnamon kind of face. Drink up.”

“Thanks,” he calls as she leaves abruptly. _Maybe she’s got anxiety,_ he thinks, picking up his mug and thinking of his friend from school. _Aisha’s got anxiety._ Sipping his cocoa, the diner falling into a hush, Henry looks back to his homework for next week, not expecting the sudden rush of images.

_108 Mifflin Street; apple trees and apple pie; his Mom spinning him around and singing in Spanish to him at bedtime; living and going to school in Storybrooke; Miss Blanchard and being given the Book; the Evil Queen, the Saviour, Emma-_

Henry sucks in a breath of air, eyes blowing wide. He looks around, finding the smiling faces of all the people he knows.

“Storybrooke- it’s back, you’re all _back._ ”

Immediately, a series of cheers and whoops go around, Ruby coming to give him a hug, which he gladly returns. _She used to baby-sit me,_ he remembers, enthralled by how his real memories and fake memories collide. _I have a sister – I have **two** sisters. But Lucy’s missing._

“What happened?” he questions when things quiet down, worried over her welfare. “How are you back?”

“We don’t know, pup,” Ruby says, “we don’t remember the last year. Only baby Hood remembers.”

“Baby Hood?”

“Robin Hood and his Merry Men are in town, along with lots of new folk, boy,” Granny explains grimly. “His son is the only one able to remember, probably because of the weird magic he’s got going on with your mother.”

“Weird magic?” Henry questions, before his grandpa comes up to him, hand clapping on his shoulder.

“Henry,” he greets with a relieved voice, “it’s good to have you back.”

“You too, Grandpa,” Henry gives him a quick hug, “Did you wake my mom up, too?”

His grandpa exchanges a look with his grandma, who Henry stares at for a minute. _I’m going to have a new aunt or uncle,_ he thinks, kind of shocked.

“Henry, we only had enough memory potion for one person and we picked you, because you got Emma to believe the last time.”

Immediately, Henry’s on board. “We need my Book. Does anyone have it?”

“We’ve searched,” Grandma admits, “but we haven’t been able to find it. Your mothers are keeping each other busy, looking after Roni, trying to find Lucy and…” she hesitates “reconnecting.”

“You mean they’re making out,” Henry translates. “That’s fine. They’re True Loves – and Mom will find Lucy, she’s good at that. We just need to find my Book.”

“Well, let’s get to it, then,” Grandpa pats his shoulder again before reaching for Henry’s things. “Finish your cocoa and we’ll head off.”

“Awesome,” Henry grabs it, taking a few seconds to down it, then moving on to packing his things away. “Thanks for the cocoa, Ruby!”

“No problem, kiddo. You make Emma remember us, so she can save the day.”

Henry zips his bag up, swinging it over his should. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it. See you later!”

* * *

“…big house.”

“Thank-you,” Regina replies, sounding pleased with herself.

Emma glances at her wife, eyes drawn again and again to the red scar on her cheek. _It looks deep,_ she thinks as she follows Regina up the side pathway from the driveway, their hands loosely joined. Just to remind herself that she’s still there, Emma squeezes tightly, watching Regina look back at her covertly as she opens the front door.

The house is fancy. Emma doesn’t understand how Regina got a hold of a place like this, especially seeing as technically, she’s legally dead. Emma remembers having to do the paperwork. _Maybe this is someone else’s house and they’re letting her stay. Maybe she’s got a sugar-daddy._

Then, of course, she sees the pictures of Henry on the wall, her eyes widening at the ones of him as a toddler and a pre-schooler.

“We lost those,” Emma blurts out, prompting Regina to stop walking. “The pictures. How…how did you get copies? They all burnt up.”

“I have backups of every photo, Emma, every last one,” Regina replies and it makes sense – though where she had the backups, Emma will probably never find out. “Of Henry, at least,” she adds.

Emma glances at her, frowning. “You don’t have any of me?”

“I have…two? Six?” Regina hazards. “They aren’t good ones.”

“Are they blurry or something?” Emma jokes, before Regina takes her hand back, clearly uneasy. “Hey, it’s okay not…not to want to put pictures up, especially when you can’t…” Emma trails off, not finishing her sentence.

_Remember. Especially when you can’t remember._

Emma thinks back to their wedding day. Like a lot of her memories, they’re blurry, but she can imagine it – she can remember Regina’s dress, at least. She looked beautiful.

“Tell me about us,” Regina says abruptly. “What was our life like, together?”

“It was really good,” Emma immediately says. “You- you used to make pancakes on Sunday and paella on Wednesday.”

“What side of the bed did I sleep on?”

“Right,” Emma replies, “You got the left sink, though. You used to help Henry brush his teeth when he was little on this dinosaur step. It was adorable. I’d take him to school in the morning and you’d pick him up in the afternoon, until middle school when he wanted to take the bus.”

Regina nods a little, hesitant. “Yes. I…I did. What…what about us? How did we meet?”

Emma pauses, “Well, I’d just gotten out of prison. I had Henry there. I met you at work. I had to take Henry in with me and you always said hello to him when you got your coffee – you took it black, with three sugars, by the way.”

“You know my order,” Regina replies, sounding surprised. They still haven’t moved out of the foyer.

“I think I’d be a bad barista if I forgot my most regular customer’s order,” Emma jokes. “You liked me for Henry, though. The first time I asked you on a date, you looked at me like I’d just spat in your coffee. The second time I asked, you said so long as I brought Henry with me – he was the only ‘tolerable’ part of me.”

“Sounds like me,” the brunette smiles slightly, lip twitching. “Ten years later?”

“House with a white-picket fence,” Emma grins and she can pretend that Regina’s just teasing in that moment, making sure Emma can recap their relationship correctly. “Fully-paid mortgage, minimal debt from your college degree, swing in the back-garden and plans to go through IVF. Married six years in May – seven and a half, now.”

Regina’s smile falters slightly. “How was your pregnancy? Tink said you were in New York.”

“It was…hard,” Emma decides to be truthful. “Neither of us were doing well. Henry refused to see his therapist, for a while.” Emma pauses, before reaching out for Regina’s hand again, clutching it tightly. “There’s no easy way to say this. Henry had depression. Your death hurt him and he started self-harming.”

Regina sucks in a sharp breath and Emma tries not to think back to seeing him in their bathroom in New York more than once, trying to clean up red stains around the sink.

“He stopped, around when Roni was born. She came early,” Emma repeats, “and it was stressful on both of us, but having a little sister distracted him, I think. I’ve been keeping an eye on him and he’s been seeing a psychiatrist in New York once a week, after school. He’s only skipped out once in the last six months.”

“Why did he skip out?” Regina immediately questions, sounding so worried.

“Nothing bad,” Emma assures, “he was just worried over his friend. You might hear him mention her, when you talk to him about our time in New York. Her name’s Aisha and her anxiety is pretty severe – he was helping her through a panic-attack and being responsible, calling her parents to come pick her up.”

Regina’s shoulders sag. “He’s a good boy.”

“The best,” Emma promises, before hugging her, giving her some support as she takes the information in. “I’ve been looking after him.”

“I’m sure you have,” Regina whispers. “Emma.”

* * *

Belle hears the chime of the shop door opening and for a moment, wants to ignore it. Rumple is dead or maybe he isn’t – maybe she brought him back during the missing year. Belle doesn’t know. She hopes that they brought Rumple back. It’s been so long since Belle hasn’t had him there, _somewhere_ nearby – the twenty-eight years in the asylum and year in Regina’s tower, not included.

The person who came through the door doesn’t give her a chance to mope, though.

“Hello? Belle, are you here?” comes a familiar voice. Belle stiffens, before standing mechanically, coming out of the back room to blink at the sight of Baelfire. “Belle, I’ve been looking for you.”

“I’ve been…here,” she says, frowning. “Where have you been?”

He furrows his brow, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I was just in the woods and…I don’t know, something is wrong with me. I can feel it. Like this…absence.”

“ _Right_ and do you know anything else? Anything helpful?” Belle questions, grimacing at her own tone.

“I don’t know,” he grits his teeth, before sighing. “Do you mind if I hide out here? Hook and Tinkerbell says I’m part of whatever Cursed memories Emma has.”

“Sure, of course, make yourself at home,” Belle replies, feeling faintly worried for Baelfire as he rubs at his forehead, visibly sweating. “You don’t look good, Baelfire.”

He gives a small bark of laughter. “Oh, I never thought I’d be called that again like it’s normal. Have to say – it’s nice.”

Belle smiles then, as well, happy for him. The door to the shop opens again, bell chiming. Looking over Baelfire’s shoulder, Belle’s eyes widen dramatically, before she tries to seem vaguely neutral.

“Can I help you, young man?”

Behind Baelfire, Henry waves shortly, David on his heel. “Hey Grandma – do you know where my storybook is?”

“Your- your storybook?” Belle questions, a little caught on the _grandma_ comment, before Baelfire turns to face his son. Henry lights up at the sight of him, jumping forwards.

“Dad! You’re here!” The two hug, before Henry steps back. “I’ve got to find the Book, so I can make Emma remember everything!”

“You remember Storybrooke?” Baelfire questions.

“Uh-huh,” Henry nods, “Ruby gave me a cocoa spiked with memory potion, but there was only enough for one person and they picked me, so I could make my mom believe again.”

“You’d think they’d pick Emma, what with everything going on around here,” Baelfire looks to David.

“Well,” David starts, “we thought Henry might be safer, if he knew. It’s not just him Emma has to protect, after all – and it’s cruel to make Regina go through the loss of another child.”

“Another?” Belle questions, having heard the rumours but not having put any truth to them. “Regina truly had a child in the missing year?”

“Yes,” David looks inordinately proud, smiling. “Regina and Emma share True Love.”

“Okay, was _not_ expecting that,” Baelfire mutters in disbelief. “I thought I was Emma’s True Love.”

“You’re not,” Henry replies to him, unapologetically. “My mom’s used magic on each other to get pregnant. Now, a lady’s got one of my sisters. Ruby and Granny are guarding Roni while my mom tries to wake Emma up.”

“With True Love’s kiss?” Belle hazards.

“Hopefully,” David puts a hand on Henry’s shoulder, “but if not, then we have Henry as a backup.”

“Wait,” Baelfire points at David, “I thought Emma didn’t want you or Snow hanging around Henry because of the whole…” Baelfire glances at Henry, “thing.”

From the loaded look shared by the two men, full of tension, Belle guesses that Rumple forgot to mention something that happened on Neverland – something that possibly estranged Emma from her parents. Narrowing her eyes, Belle decides to listen in for now and ask Baelfire later.

“I don’t see any reason for us not to spend time with our grandson.”

“Except what you two did,” Baelfire points out.

“What did you do?” Henry questions, David giving him a genuine smile that makes Belle raise an eyebrow.

“Nothing you need to know about, Henry. It’s grown-up stuff.”

“I’m pretty grown-up, now,” Henry hedges, “I lived in New York.”

“That’s pretty grown-up,” Baelfire agrees with his son, in Belle’s opinion not because he thinks its true, but to get David to fess up.

“It’s not,” David replies, looking to Belle. “Is the Book here?”

“Not that I know of,” Belle states quickly, “but I can have a look.”

“Text me if you find it,” Henry tells her, stepping over to the front desk near the till, writing out a phone number on a piece of paper. Belle glances at it, wondering when Henry got an actual phone that he uses. “Do you even have a phone?” he questions her, frowning.

“I have a phone,” Belle assures him. “So does your father, if I’m unavailable.”

“Can I get your number?” he asks.

“Later,” David interrupts, stepping past Baelfire to take Henry. “Call us if you find anything.” As he goes back past Baelfire, however, the former Lost Boy grabs the prince’s arm.

“Don’t think you’re getting off so easy. Separating children from their mother’s is something bad guys do, something you’ve always made sure they paid for. You’re being a hypocrite.”

David pulls out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.” He leaves, Henry giving them all confused glances, before Belle reaches over to Baelfire’s elbow.

“What did they do? What was all that, talking about children?”

Baelfire huffs. “Let me tell you the little story that _Prince Charming_ , there, apparently told in the Echo Caves.”

* * *

_ The Enchanted Forest – Eight Months Prior _

In some ways, it’s good to have confirmation that Zelena is her blood. Not that Regina didn’t trust Rumple’s word, however…sometimes she didn’t. He twisted the truth and manipulated her throughout her entire life. Finding out she had a sister hadn’t been a good thing – he had been pretty suicidal that entire week on Neverland, giving away information like it meant nothing rather than bargaining.

In retrospect, it had disturbed her, but the lack of walls between them on his part had perhaps brought them closer together in his final days.

Regina sighs, eyeing the wine on the table, set just out of her reach. _I hope Belle and Baelfire managed to find **something** useful in that castle of his._ Resurrection is easy – it’s just getting a hold of the means and method that is so troublesome. Regina muses that perhaps, it would be easier to resurrect Maleficent. _Maybe I should. I deserve a friend that I didn’t make through Snow._

“It’s official. Everyone from Storybrooke has returned,” Grumpy announces. A small cheer goes up, Regina sharing a heavy glance with Snow. It’s a strange twist in fate, that they are such close allies, now. _If I brought Maleficent back, that would end,_ she thinks, _but nothing can be done. Only Emma would have known where to start, looking for her child._

Emma. Henry. Maleficent’s child. The three people left behind, none knowing the full truth of their beginnings.

“The only missing have been noted as captured or turned,” the dwarf continues, momentarily distracting Regina from her thoughts. _Turned?_ “Turns out, a bite from one of those flying monkeys? It can turn you _into_ a flying monkey.”

Disturbed, Regina makes a face. “What kind of monstrosity did Zelena _create?_ ” Her question is more rhetorical than anything, but Grumpy still answers.

“The flying, venomous, monkey kind.”

“We have to safe-guard our people,” Aurora adds, sounding as anxious as ever. “How are we supposed to protect them if Zelena’s creatures can do this? How do we keep them happy?”

“We can’t,” Regina says bluntly, drawing attention to herself. “It’s impossible to keep them happy. All we can do is offer guidance and order, in these times of peril. Sometimes, all we can do is ride it out – and we know these flying monkeys aren’t invincible. We warn the people. We tell them to always have a weapon ready in case they are attacked, to stay in groups, to come to the castle if necessary.”

“Most of them are already here,” Snow continues and doesn’t it make Regina feel at odds with her own ambition, to work _with_ her optimistic step-daughter. “Regina’s right. All we can do is offer guidance and order – and hope, for a better future.” Snow looks at Regina, then, smiling and very clearly expecting her to make the announcement. “Regina?”

Grumbling, aware that most have already guessed the truth, she smiles blandly. “I’m having a baby.”

To her surprise, Aurora looks slightly shocked. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Regina says, clicking her nails along the edge of the table. “I’m four months along. Our children will grow up at the same time and play games together. It’s an absolutely _thrilling_ future,” she drawls, noting the strange look that the princess shares with her knight in shining armour, even as she sees some of the table – and the other surrounding figures – peering at her torso unabashedly.

“Congratulations, Regina,” Blue offers, vaguely suspicious. “Though, I was under the impression you weren’t able to have children – something of your own doing.”

“Emma healed her,” Snow explains, Regina shooting her a murderous glare. “They share True Love.”

Regina scoffs as Blue raises an eyebrow. “It was a fluke. Emma and I had barely begun anything before…before everything that happened.”

“True Love is eternal,” Blue reminds her, “it defies fate and destiny. You would have felt it from the moment you locked eyes.”

Regina lets out yet another scoff, rolling her eyes. “Right.” Standing, she looks to Snow. “If you’ll excuse me.” Leaving quickly, heading for her quarters, Regina breaths in and out deeply, trying to tamp down her…her anger?

 _No,_ she thinks as she walks through the castle, _embarrassment._ Why did Snow have to ask her to do that? She just told everyone at that table of her pregnancy, her _weakness_. Henry might be gone, but he’s also _safe_ – Lucy is not. When she gets to her rooms, she stands in front of her mirror. She tries to see how she’s grown, but there’s not much, other than the tightness of her corset.

She senses the foreign magic before it completely enters her quarters and Regina looks to her left, watching Zelena swoop down, propping her broom up against a wall.

“Hey, sis,” she greets casually. Regina narrows her eyes at her happy smile. “I wanted to offer my congratulations.”

 _No._ “How did you know?”

“I have a spy,” Zelena shrugs, coming to stand by Regina, looking at them both in the mirror. This close, she can smell her sisters perfume – it’s lavender, she thinks. “What a pretty pair we make. Neither of us got our fathers looks, it seems. I was always jealous of your _daddy_ – my adoptive father was a cruel man.”

“I see you didn’t get the memo,” Regina replies bluntly, not extrapolating when Zelena frowns. _It’s not my job to spread the truth about my parentage – besides, my remaining cousins might just sue me for Daddy’s properties, if they care about those things._ “What do you want, Zelena?”

“I’m just popping in to say hello – to you and to my future niece or nephew.”

“You won’t be touching her,” Regina sneers at her, before reaching up to grab her neck. Zelena is quick to bring her own hands up, not so reliant on magic that she just pops out of her hold, grappling with her for a moment. Regina sees the fear there, for an instance, before she pushes her back. “Stay out of my personal bubble,” she orders.

Zelena glares mutinously before summoning her broom and leaving without another word.


	15. Chapter 15

There are new stories in the Book.

“Really?” his Grandma questions, still surrounded by boxes and cardboard. Henry nods, eyes glued to the page that he has read so many times, the picture of his mother as a baby right there beside it, her name in ribbons on a knitted baby blanket that he has seen in person – that his mother thought lost, after the supposed fire in Boston.

 _I wonder if it’s here, in Storybrooke,_ he thinks, answering her out loud, “Yes. But I’m not really interested in them. Not yet, at least. I skimmed them – most of them are filler-chapters, stories I didn’t know about people in town.”

“So, there’s more stories about me and Charming?”

Henry finishes the page, shutting the Book gently, treasuring it more now he’s spent so long without it. He’s read the story of his mother’s birth so many times in the past that as soon as he saw that her picture was on the wrong page, he re-read it, to see what had changed. The fact is, his grandparents aren’t as innocent as they’d like him to believe.

 _I’m not stupid,_ he thinks, looking up at his grandmother with a smile. “I think so, but only one – something about Grandpa being turned to stone.”

“Oh,” Snow smiles in relief, “well, that’s an interesting story. It’s about me realising there was more to life than just fighting the Evil Queen.”

“I can’t wait to read it,” Henry grins, before tucking the Book into his bag. “I’m going to go to Granny’s for a milkshake. Do you want anything?”

“You shouldn’t leave,” David says from the kitchen, taking some orange juice out of the fridge. “Until we know who Cursed us here and why people are going missing, you should stay safe.”

“It’s just down the street and my mom doesn’t remember everything yet – she’ll think it’s weird if I’m at some strangers’ house,” Henry points out, chaffing a little at their protectiveness.

“We’re not strangers, though,” Snow says, sounding a little sad. “When Emma remembers, I’m sure she’ll understand. That was the point in getting the Book, right?”

“Yeah,” Henry concedes, for a moment. “But my moms are True Love. They can break the memory wipe, we just have to give them some time. Also, I want to see my sister.”

“We’ll come with you,” David offers, reaching for his coat.

“No!” Henry exclaims, before pausing as they exchange a wary glance. “I just…I just want to get a milkshake and see Roni. I’ll stay at Granny’s, I won’t leave, not without someone we trust. I promise.”

“You _promise?_ ” David confirms.

“I promise,” Henry rolls his eyes, before going to the door. “Bye!” He leaves the apartment, but instead of to Granny’s, he goes right to his other remaining grandparent – who he knows _technically_ isn’t his grandmother, but it’s fun to see her squirm.

“Back so soon?” Belle questions, eyebrow raised. Henry thinks she sounds tired.

“We found the Book,” Henry states, bringing his bag over to where she pores over a ledger. “What are you doing?”

“Checking to see what came over and what didn’t. Some artefacts of Rumple’s could bring our memories back, or at least help track down Regina’s daughter,” Belle explains. “I may not like your mother, but your sister is innocent in all this.”

Henry nods, “Right. My mom didn’t really treat you well as the Evil Queen, did she?”

“No, she did not,” Belle purses her lips, before Henry’s dad comes out to join them.

“Hey,” Neal greets.

“Hey, Dad,” Henry takes his Book out, flipping to Emma’s story. “So, I was thinking maybe you would be able to help me with something. I read Emma’s story again and it’s longer – it explains more, about what my other grandparents did to Maleficent.”

“You _know?_ ” Neal questions, eyes wide. “Do they know you know?”

Henry shakes his head. “I pretended the Book only had a couple of new things. It’s not the same, though. It’s like the entire Book has been rewritten – only the pictures are the same. I want to bring Maleficent back, to help her.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Belle puts her hand up. “You want to resurrect a dragon? _Maleficent_ , out of all the dragons you could resurrect?”

“We have to help her. Her daughter’s missing and she’s a dragon, she’s not human – can’t we do it?” Henry questions.

“We can, but I’m asking whether we _should_ , Henry.” Belle says, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “ _En fait, je m’en fiche._ I have a book- well, _Rumple_ had a book.”

Belle moves across the room, going to a bookshelf as Neal twists around Henry’s storybook, scanning the page.

“It’s a different author,” Henry says, “their writing is a lot more…flowery? They use a lot of- kind of _Shakespeare._ It’s odd, but I understand it better.”

“It’s in Southern, as well,” Neal notes. “Spanish, in other words. I didn’t know you could read Spanish.”

“My mom and I spoke it a lot, growing up,” Henry says, intrigued. “You’re saying it’s an actual language from the Enchanted Forest? My teachers in New York said I sounded strange when I spoke, that some of my words were different.”

“Regional dialects – or rather, in this case _realm_ dialects – differ. Regina probably taught you High Southern. She wouldn’t have known Common Southern, not like how I did. This is in High Southern.” Neal glances at Belle as she comes back over, a book in a strange, glossy cover in hand. “Did you know Southern?”

“I know sixteen languages,” Belle replies, making Henry’s eyes widen as Neal further questions her.

“Did you know Common _and_ High Southern, then?”

Belle gives him an amused look, before peering at the Book’s open pages. “I can read that,” she replies, not answering the question. Then, she opens her own book over the top of it and it’s funny, but Henry blinks and the words seem to almost shimmer in the light. They look curled and almost like runes for a moment and then, they’re in Spanish- High Southern.

“What’s that?” Henry queries.

“The Dragon Scroll,” Belle answers with a twitch of her lip, paging through it. “I know it’s not a scroll right now, but that’s only because we’re here – it changes, between Realms, apparently. Rumple once brought it into Doctor Whale’s world and it became like this, but with a different cover. Supposedly, it was written by a dragon to share dragon-secrets with sorcerers of old. Rumple’s been keeping it locked up, though I saw a woman called Ursula browsing, once. He lent it out to Regina a couple of times as well, actually.”

“Can it tell us how to bring Maleficent back?”

“…yes,” Belle traces a couple of words on a page. “Dragons can’t really be killed, except by their own kind. More like, they go dormant. We just need to provide her some incentive to wake.”

“Like what, the lives of the Charmings?” Henry’s dad scoffs. “That’ll never happen.”

“We just need their blood,” Belle rolls her eyes at him. “We drop some on her ashes and then she can revive herself. If they did her the most wrong – and seeing as how they abducted her child, I think they’d be the primary suspects – then their blood should awaken her.”

“How are we going to get their blood?” Henry feels a little wary at the thought. His grandma is pregnant, too. _It’s dangerous for her to get hurt, right now._ He fingers twitch, eyes trailing along his back-pack as he thinks of blood, how his own skin opens when introduced to a razor-blade. _I’ve got Aisha’s pocket-knife in my pencil-case._ “Does it _have_ to be theirs?”

“For the best results,” Belle grimaces.

“Right,” Henry mutters, before sliding the Book out from beneath it, pausing when Belle frowns. “Grandma?”

She makes a slight face and he supresses his smile. “You said the stories had changed. Could I see mine?”

“Of course,” Henry spins it awkwardly, flipping through the large storybook to Belle’s story, delighted to find that it had gotten larger, gone past just the Dark One taking her away to his castle to be his maid forever, in exchange for the extinguishment of the Ogres.

He skims it for a moment, looking forwards, smiling slightly at the picture of his grandfather holding her in his arms in front of a torn curtain. Beneath the picture lays a caption – each picture having one now, unlike before.

_And so, Rumplestiltskin catches his Belle when she falls, even as he falls far further than she does, for her._

Older than his ten year old self, Henry gets it a bit better now and thinks, maybe, in a genuine, but slightly self-centred way, that the Book changed because he did. _He fell in love,_ he thinks, looking forwards to when he could re-read the Book again and discover more about the Enchanted Forest and all his family.

“Here,” he says, after tearing his eyes away from the picture, handing it over. “I’ll come back for it later. Don’t tell anyone I was here.”

“Will do, champ,” Neal nods, before Henry twists, aiming to head for the library – to the elevator down to the mines, where Maleficent’s ashes lay. Henry tries not to think about the urge he feels to use the well-used pocket-knife in his bag, justifying it as he walks casually towards the clocktower.

_She needs my grandparents’ blood for the best results – **my** grandparents’ blood; and I’m the son of the Saviour and the Evil Queen, her friend. It wouldn’t hurt to try. Maybe I can help._

* * *

Unaware of her son’s plan, Regina sits with Emma, listening to the blonde woman talk about their supposed life together. Hearing her speak with such _vehemence_ makes her forget at some moments and Regina can see it – see herself being high-strung when they first met, nervous and shook by Emma’s careless attitude, see Emma beside her groaning about the unfairness that Henry’s first word is to Regina, see them living and _sharing_.

But then Regina remembers Daniel, remember how it was the same with him, how he slipped inside her walls like he’d always been there, just like how Emma described them together in her fantasy world. She remembers Henry saying _mami_ in his crib when she went in to pick him up after a nap. Nothing Emma tells her really happened.

 _Why do I want it to have, though?_ Regina questions herself, wondering why, why, _why_ she would. _I raised Henry by myself. I had a life on my own, raising him. Emma Swan had nothing to do with it._

Or rather, Emma _Swan-Mills_ , had nothing to do with it.

“It felt wrong, getting rid of the hyphen,” Emma mutters awkwardly, “and, I mean, you aren’t _dead_ , so good thing I didn’t. Anyway, Henry was championing his cause to get his own hyphen by the time I thought about it and then the mess with Roni came up.”

“Mess?” Regina questions.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Everything burned in the fire. Including our documents from the Boston clinic and they had shut up shop by the time Roni was born. I couldn’t get the paperwork through for her with the hyphen, not when you weren’t technically her father. Stupid hospitals.”

“I see,” Regina says, keeping her composure. _Father. No-one is the father in this strange relationship of ours, not when we both have children from the other._ “Are you planning to go back to New York?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. We just packed up and left, after Jones and Green came to see us, give or take an evening,” Emma shakes her head. “I really don’t know, Regina. I mean…you’re alive, you’re _here_ in this town…we’re not leaving unless you’re coming with us, that’s for sure.”

 _Good,_ Regina thinks, focusing on breathing for a second. _What will she say when she wakes up, I wonder. Probably something of the same note._

“Does Lucy have a room, here?” Emma questions suddenly.

Slightly surprised at the change of subject, Regina gives a small nod, pursing her lips. “I didn’t have any hand in decorating it,” she warns. Standing, she leads Emma out of the living room and up the staircase to the nursery.

Truthfully, she hadn’t realised it _had_ been decorated until the second day – after their first confusing day and that evening where she realised she’d already given birth to Lucy. She’d woken up and realised something was strange about her first floor landing – to be specific, she’d realised there was a cream and purple nametag on the door to her spare room.

“Lucy’s room,” Emma takes Regina’s hand briefly, squeezing before stepping in front of her, opening the door to show off the room in its lavender glory.

It didn’t bother Regina, the nursery itself. So, the walls might be lavender and the crib might not be Henry’s old one, but it did have her old rocking chair and some stuffed toys that Regina had last seen on top of Henry’s cabinets, ones he would have gladly given to his baby sister out of love rather than because he wanted to get rid of them.

What _did_ bother her, however, were the photos on the walls above Lucy’s crib. Artful, matching the room for aesthetic and in perfect place – but fake, all the same. Sonograms for six months in two rows, with first day, week and month pictures below it in another to make up nine. Three other empty spaces, absent of anything but the white paper the photo-frame came with are below them. Regina imagines what might be there – more pictures, from second, third and four months – had Lucy not been taken.

Emma clearly sees it too, smile fading slightly. Her hand reaches out, just shy of touching the glass around the first month picture. Regina doesn’t like looking at it, but her eyes are drawn there just the same. She doesn’t even know if it’s a real picture.

“She looks like Roni. They could be twins, Regina.”

It takes Regina a moment to see, pushing past her own bias. She steps forwards in front of the crib, staring at the picture, hands white-knuckling the crib bars. Emma’s right, she realises with a start, aching for her daughters, _both_ of them. She wants to hold them like she held Henry when she was a baby, to feel the warmth of them and know that they’re _safe_.

Regina doesn’t even realise she’s crying, arms _shaking_ as she leans against the crib, until Emma wraps her up, pulling her into an embrace.

“It’ll be alright, we’ll find her, we’ll be all together soon. Shh, shh…”

“I want her back, I need my daughter,” Regina states. _Necesito a mi hija. I need her back with me, now, not later: **now**._

“I know and I’m going to help you, I promise. We’ll find her, Regina, I swear,” Emma says, pulling away for a moment to force her to look her in the eyes, to see that she’s serious; and Regina has no idea what possesses her, but she leans forwards, kissing her-

- _right_ as an earthquake rips through the town.

* * *

Henry stares up at the writhing, ginormous woman, who turns into a dragon, roaring loud enough that the very cavern itself shakes. Wobbling, Henry barely manages to _only_ land on his butt, holding his bleeding, half-bandaged arm and his other hand holding Aisha’s knife up in the air. As Maleficent calms down, he regains his balance, wiping the knife hastily on his bandage before flipping it shut, tucking it in his pockets.

“Who are you?” Maleficent questions coolly as she opens her eyes, a humanoid. Henry swallows, half-wanting to keep looking at her in fascination and more half- _needing_ to bandage his arm back up. Maleficent is pale-skinned, with dark shadows around bright blue eyes and red lips that are licked briefly by a purple tongue.

“Henry,” he replies quietly, before looking down, lowering his arm so he can redo his bandage, struggling slightly as blood drips around the curve onto the rocky ground. To his surprise, the dragon-lady comes close, down, crouching in front of him and reaching out a hand. A finger catches a droplet that goes to fall and she brings it to her lips.

“Henry…names are power, you know,” she says, frowning lightly at him before placing down her staff and taking the bandage from him, undoing it. Henry fidgets uncomfortably on the gravel, not wanting to look at the numerous scars there that he knows now were pointless. “Do you know what you have done, bringing me back like you did?”

“It was in the- the scroll. It said that blood could wake you.”

“It could and it did,” Maleficent waves her hand over his open wound, healing it – and some of the other still-healing cuts. The scars from them all remain, though. She uses the bandages to wipe his arm of blood. “You summoned me, Pure-Heart Henry.”

“Pure-Heart?” he raises an eyebrow. “Is my heart special for another reason, now?”

“Another reason?” Maleficent copies his action, smiling a little. “You are very special, it seems. What was your heart called before?”

“Peter Pan said I had the heart of the Truest Believer.”

“I see. That is different from being a Pure-Heart. Being the Truest Believer is something that can never be taken from you. Your abilities cannot fade nor be removed.” Maleficent throws the bloodied bandages aside, helping him to his feet. Henry grabs her staff for her as he does, handing it back to her. “Pure-Hearted people aren’t always Pure-Hearted as they grow.”

“Oh. Cool. So, what did I do? Other than bring you back, I mean.”

Maleficent offers him an inspecting look, eyes trailing up and down. “I am bound to you until I complete the goal afforded to me, by you. By nature, only you can tell me when my service is finished – however, I would like to know what that is.”

“Oh,” Henry pauses, before giving a tentative smile as he realises what that service is, exactly, teeth biting against his lip in excitement. Maleficent looks unamused at his anticipatory silence.

“…I’m waiting, young man.”

“Ms Maleficent,” Henry starts, grinning widely, “I want you to reunite with your daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, the Wicked Arc is coming on nicely, with an early side of the Queens of Darkness. i’m honestly so pumped for this section - last time, I did something like 30k for the Neverland Arc and I genuinely think that I’ve improved the actual story I’m working from now, rather than just doing a kind of Arc rehash + a time traveller changing minute details.
> 
> but yeah. things are heating up and i’m having fun writing this in parts. stoked to include some extra tidbit characters & btw, if you like cody and what she’s doing with the north and south witches, don’t worry, more of her is going to come up and why she’s there.
> 
> also!
> 
> i’ve laid off going back to belle and baelfire in the past, to resurrect rumple and there’s a reason for that: to give you guys a cliffhanger bc seriously, what will they do? will baelfire still die? will walsh’s purpose hanging out with them be revealed? where does lumiere chime in?!
> 
> hahahaha you’ll have to wait and seeeeeeeeeeeeee


	16. Chapter 16

_ The Enchanted Forest – Ten Months Ago _

It takes them two weeks to get to his fathers castle and another month before they find the key to the Dark One’s Vault in the tower library, too busy cleaning up what mess was left behind from the Curse and dealing with the peasant-folk who relied on their liege-lord. In Rumplestiltskin’s absence, the Town Elders anoint him their lord and he doesn't mind being placed in charge - providing they stop talking about Belle the way they do, which is a harder caveat to gain than he originally thought it would be.

“She’s the Dark One’s whore,” one Elder says bluntly.

“She’s not,” Baelfire argues, “they’re True Loves!”

“The Dark One cannot have-”

Baelfire growls, glaring at the old woman. “My father is capable of love. He was an ordinary man, once. If you want to know the mechanics of how the Darkness consumes him, ask his lady – who is _not_ a whore. Should I hear any more whispers of that sort, I’m not afraid to put up penalties,” he warns.

“She lived in his lair, she allowed herself to be taken into the care of the Evil Queen when she grew tired of him!” The crone argues, snapping at him.

“Princess Belle of Avonlea was captured by the Evil Queen and held captive in a tower for a year,” Baelfire replies, “though I wouldn’t think it would surprise you to learn that the Evil Queen is the Dark One’s daughter.”

That piece of gossip keeps them away from Belle for a time. Baelfire hates that he has to use his sister as a shield against them, but she owed Belle for the twenty-nine years she spent in captivity – Regina could deal with being in the spotlight, for the moment. Reminding the townsfolk – or perhaps just _telling_ the townsfolk – that Belle is, _was_ a princess from past the West Forest could stymie their opinions.

“It could go either way,” he tells Walsh, the only unbiased source around him. “It could get them to hate my father more for taking a Royal hostage in a deal or it could lower their expectation of Avonlea.”

“A conundrum,” Walsh replies, hauling a basket of golden straw up onto his back. “Why are we selling this, again? Won’t your father be displeased, when you bring him back?”

“It’s a way to bring back some of the lost economy – with all the Royals back, they’ll want fancy clothes and crowns. I know that my father’s golden straw can be sewn,” Baelfire looks back at his fathers old spinning wheel – the same one they had in their hovel, hundreds of years ago, frozen in time. He can even see the tail-end of where he carved his name on the underside leg. _I was lucky I was taught how to read. Thank-you Elder Gothel. You might have hated my father, but you didn’t take it out on me._

“How can it bring back to the economy if all the money gets stockpiled here with you?” Walsh questions as they make their way out of the castle.

“I use the money to buy goods – clothes, food, grain. If we can’t use it up, we host a feast, giving it away. Everyone stays fed, circulation of coin goes back up…” Baelfire raises his head as he sees Belle coming down the stairs, the Key as ever, tied around her neck. “Hey.”

She looks up from her book, smiling at him momentarily. “Hey. Is that…”

“Yup,” Baelfire puts a hand on Walsh’s shoulder. “Our friend here volunteered to take it to the Marketplace, in Westerville.”

“It isn’t a hardship,” Walsh shakes his head, “Truly. I’m just happy to pay back what kindness you both have shown me.”

Belle smiles at the man, before joining them at the foot of the stairs. Baelfire still finds his eyes drawn to the Key, desperate to use it. _I need to bring him back,_ he thinks, not really knowing why. Maybe it’s because Rumplestiltskin was, if nothing else, a good man in the end. _Everything he does is to benefit himself and his family – his family, above himself, if it comes to that._

“I’d best be on my way,” Walsh bows his head to Belle, giving a short nod to Baelfire.

“Have a safe trip,” Belle offers as he makes his way out the front doors. When they are shut, she looks to Baelfire, twisting her book around to face him. “I found a book on the Vault.”

“I can see that,” Baelfire glances at the unfamiliar words, written in a language he doesn’t understand. “What land is it from?”

Belle’s eyes dart between him and the pages, before she neatly twists the book back around, flipping back a few pages. “Avonlea, actually.” Baelfire raises an eyebrow, which she catches. “I know, I was surprised, too. It’s in Old Western.”

“A question, what _is_ your native language?” Baelfire asks.

“Not the one common to Avonlea, as per Royal custom,” Belle replies, mysterious as ever. She trails her finger below a line of text in the book. “You know Common Southern and Regina knows High, for example…anyway. This book was written by a former Dark One as a guide in the unlikely case that they placed themselves into what I’d translate as ‘sleep’. They talk about it like it’s a reprieve, being…dead, like this.”

“To an immortal, it must be,” Baelfire replies, wondering if that means Old Western is her first language. “Papa didn’t tell us he could be revived.”

“Well, I don’t think he’d want either of us to wake him, would he?” Belle gives a weak smile. “We still need a sacrifice, Bae.”

“That,” Baelfire mutters, grimacing. “The people in Papa’s kingdom are too well-behaved. If this was like where we used to live together, there’d be someone – a rapist or murderer – who would fit the bill. The generals liked to suck prisoners into war, whenever there was one.”

“War?” Belle questions.

“Prisoners,” Baelfire clarifies. “Papa became the Dark One when I was drafted into the Ogre War, actually. But, yeah…I suppose we could ask Regina. They’ve probably got their castle all cleaned up by now.”

“Maybe, but we still need to set up a system to communicate. I’m surprised she hasn’t come after us, to make sure you aren’t dead.”

“She’d know if I was dead,” Baelfire argues. “Papa would visit her and you’d make him swear to tell her.”

“I would,” Belle agrees, slightly distastefully – which he can’t begrudge her. Belle and Regina have their own twisted relationship that was made ever-more complicated by the reveal of Regina’s true parentage.

The two talk more, before retreating to the kitchens for lunch. Hours later, Baelfire finds Belle once more to ask if she had heard of Walsh’s return to the castle. They search together for an hour when Belle replies in the negative, Baelfire after riding their horse to Westerville.

“He never showed. Probably took his cargo and ran off, a fortune on his back,” says the merchant who had been expecting Walsh. “Sorry, my lord, but there ain’t nothing you could do about it, ‘cept maybe put a bounty on his head.”

“Yes,” Baelfire clenches his jaw, “I will. Spread the word, if you would – five hundred coins to whomever brings him and the gold back to us, alive.”

“Aye, sir,” the merchant tips her cap as he leaves, thinking overly harshly of the runaway Walsh – Walsh, who had become Baelfire’s friend, who had wormed his way into their confidences and betrayed their trust…

 _We might have found ourselves a sacrifice after all_ , he thinks vengefully.

* * *

_ The Enchanted Forest – Seven Months Ago _

“Everything about it breaks my heart, almost more than how your mother broke my mind. Grace stays with them all the time, I visit once a week for the afternoon. We have tea and dinner and I put her to bed. Then I go home and I make my living.”

“Quite the arrangement,” Regina eyes the Hatter carefully as he continues making his hats. “As you said: it’s heart-breaking. Does Grace agree?”

“Grace likes her Cursed parents,” he says, unblinking, still working away, “Grace likes them calling her _Paige_ , by accident. Her eyes smile and then it fades. I hate you for it more and more, every day.”

“Why haven’t you hurt me, then?” Jefferson looks up then, eyes locking on her stomach. Regina grimaces. “Right. That.”

“Why are you here?” he questions. “Why risk it? I could hurt you; I _would_ hurt you, had I not heard the news. Emma Swan is a lucky woman, getting her hands on your heart.”

“She doesn’t have my heart,” Regina denies. “We might be True Loves-”

“My Rosalie wasn’t mine. It still doesn’t hurt less, knowing she’s gone,” Jefferson interrupts, looking into her eyes now. “You knew her. You knew how much she loved.”

“She was my cousin, of course I did,” Regina murmurs. “But she left us all behind for you both. I’d never begrudge her that, but I can begrudge you.”

“Rosalia Veronique Claudeta Regina,” Jefferson recites. “Queen Consort Veronique was King Xavier’s concubine. Why were so many grandchildren named after her?”

“Because the Queen Lady was called Gracia and no matter how much people loved and respected her, it always sounded as if we were saying _Queen Lady Thank-You_ ,” Regina’s lip twitches and Jefferson actually smiles then, dimples appearing.

“Rosalie loved to tell me that every time I asked. I gave the same set-up every time.”

“I know,” Regina stands, brushing off her voluminous blue skirt, placing her hat back on her head, “she told me. We wrote to each other often, despite her self-abdication of the role of Crown Princess. I was her favourite cousin.”

“What do you want of me, Regina?” Jefferson asks the right question, finally.

“I need to get to Oz and this time, I have a lowlife with me, for the trade of Dorothy Gale, should I track her down. Zelena said something about her hanging around where she wasn’t wanted, the last time she spoke to me.”

“…the Wicked Witch of the West. She isn’t appreciative of my gifts.”

“My sister isn’t the nicest of people,” Regina tilts her head. Jefferson snorts, shaking his head as he too, stands, taking a random top-hat off a mannequin. “If nothing else, Miss Gale should be able to give us some needed advice.”

“Why does the Witch speak to you?” Jefferson questions.

“Maybe she’s lonely, or just looking for some more reasons to be jealous,” Regina rolls her eyes. “Who knows. Now, are you going to help me or are you not?”

Jefferson gives her a sickly smile, obviously fake but far, far more lucid than anything Regina has seen on him in a while. He takes her arm and leads her across to the single open space in the workshop, setting his hat on the ground and spinning it with a single flourish.

Like old times, they step back as the portal grows and then: they jump.

* * *

_ The Edge of the Enchanted Forest – Four Days Ago _

“We can’t outrun it, Killian,” Tink tries to reason with him. “Travel between realms is tricky right now-”

“It can be done. Not everyone was taken when the first Dark Curse was cast and I doubt the one that the Charmings have cooking is powerful enough to freeze us in time.” Killian argues. “Regina said it wouldn’t be able to breach any other realms and if we’re teetering on the edge of reality-”

“Unfortunately,” he’s interrupted by a familiar, sickly sweet voice, “I have a much better plan for you.”

Killian twists around at the helm, immediately glowering at the green-skinned witch on his deck, sitting next to Tink on a barrel of fresh water. Tink jerks away from her, causing Zelena to laugh.

“See to Liam,” he orders his wife, only for said boy to yell from the crow’s nest.

“ _Da, intruder! I’m staying up here, don’t worry!_ ”

Zelena glances upwards and Killian feels a deep sense of dread as Tinkerbell comes to his side, gripping his wrist tightly.

“Don’t hurt him,” he tries to plead with the witch. “He’s an orphan, we just want him to be happy.”

“Oh, I’m not here for your pet merman,” Zelena shrugs. “I had some fun with the Curse, by the way, just so you know. They won’t remember this entire year. You _are_ right, though, about teetering on the edge of reality. You’re clever, for a pirate.”

“I’ve been alive much longer than you probably realise,” he states lowly, drawing his sword. Zelena scoffs, waving her hand, but his sword only glows slightly before she makes a face. Killian smiles grimly. “But I know how to handle myself around witches better, these days. Thank your sister for that.”

Zelena glares at the sword slightly before huffing. “I need you in Storybrooke. As an old friend mentioned, Emma and my nephew need to return to Storybrooke, if only so I can assure they won’t be able to help you.” She waves her hand again and the entire ship shudders, water splashing around them. To Killian’s horror, he can see a port in the distance, as well as the rolling purple cloud of the Dark Curse slowly rushing over the mountains.

“What have you done?”

Once more, the witch shrugs, as if it all means nothing to her. “Assurance. You won’t be able to out-run the Curse, not now. I’m putting a shield around your ship, however – you’ll remember most of the year, don’t worry, but I’ll be…modifying some things,” she pauses, “and holding your boy hostage, but you won’t know about that.”

“Why, you bitch-” Killian tries to soar forwards, sword rising, but Tink grabs his arm, keeping him back.

Zelena looks at him in distain, like he’s the mud on her boot. “Filthy pirates. At least the fairy can keep you under control.” She snaps her green fingers, a green force-field rising to encase everything – the crow’s nest and Liam included. Killian looks up, trying to assure himself that his son is alright, but he can nary see a lock of hair, let alone a face.

“What are you going to make us do?” Tinkerbell questions, still clutching Killian’s arm. Zelena, in answer, throws over a bottle, a note tied to its neck. Tink catches it, using two hands to read properly. “ _The Jones’, this is a memory potion for either Emma or Henry. The choice is yours, for there is only enough for one. They’re in Manhattan, New York. May your journey be golden._ ”

“Who sent this?” Killian questions, not recognising the hand, but having an inkling at who might have sent the potion. _May your journey be golden. Golden. They could have said swift, true or anything other than that. Baelfire. This has to be him._

The Wicked Witch shakes her head, however. “No-one you know.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Killian mutters, before again having another inkling. _The Jones’._ Bae came from a poor land lacking in last names, despite spending time in the Land Without Magic, where he became Neal Cassidy. Killian doesn’t know, either way if it were Baelfire that sent the message – but if it was, Killian dreads to think that Zelena might have him captive.

“It’s coming,” Tink looks out onto the land, the purple smoke covering the seaside town and hurrying across the water towards the _Jolly Roger_. She looks to the crow’s nest. “If you remember us, Liam, find us in the other realm! Don’t let us think you’re not telling the truth and even if your feelings get hurt, don’t swim across the realms back to Atlantis! Please!”

“ _I won’t, Mama, I promise!_ ”

“Here we go,” Killian refuses to say goodbye to his son, swearing it won’t be the last they see of him. The Curse gets closer and closer, Tinkerbell’s hand coming to wrap around his hook as he lowers his sword. Across the deck, Zelena watches it with dark eyes, closing them as the smoke comes to envelop the ship.

Killian hears his son cry out for them and then, there’s darkness.

* * *

_ Storybrooke – Now _

The earthquake causes them to lose their footing and Regina nearly tumbles to the ground, but Emma catches her before she does.

“What the hell was that?” Emma demands, but she isn’t looking around like there was a tremor – she’s holding her head, looking distressed and pained. “I just saw- I don’t even know what I saw.”

“What did you see?” Regina questions, wondering if she just saw a glimpse of her true memories.

“I don’t know, but it hurt my head,” Emma grimaces. “Do you happen to have any painkillers in this fancy house of yours, Gina?”

“‘Gina’?” Regina instead repeats, more than a little shocked at Emma’s casual use of the nickname. “Do I really let you call me that?”

Emma glances at her, visibly pausing. “…yes?”

Regina glowers. “I’m going to take that as a _no._ ”

Despite the slight pout that appears on her face, Emma looks more relieved than anything. _Banter, in her dream life with me. Is this what we do in every life? Bicker and smile at each other? Or is the smiling just something Emma does?_

“Sorry,” Emma offers, before she reaches over to the wall, righting the picture frame. “I didn’t know there was a major fault line this far north.”

“I didn’t either,” Regina wonders what caused the shaking – if the person who Cursed them again had brought some form of hell-beast to her town. From her pocket, her phone vibrates and she checks it, rolling her eyes at the text from Granny, the only person in town with her number who dares to text her about anything other than psychiatrist appointments.

**GRANNY: What did you do?**

**REGINA: Nothing.**

Regina goes to put her phone away, but doesn’t quite expect the second text back.

**GRANNY: Henry has been given the memory potion, so he remembers. He’s being kept safe by Snow and David. Thought you’d want to know, Your Majesty.**

“Oh,” Regina breathes in sharply. _Henry remembers me._

“What? What is it?” Emma questions, slightly alarmed at her reaction.

Regina glances at her fake wife, swallowing. “Nothing. Nothing we need to worry about. I…it’s just a friend. Something happened that I’d- _they’d_ been waiting for.”

“Oh…well, that’s good?”

“It is,” she nods her head in confirmation, lip twitching. “Is your head okay?”

Emma furrows her brow. “I think so. I just…I don’t know,” she shakes her head and Regina tentatively reaches out, briefly _wanting_. Emma is all ignorance right now, but the life she described was a good life. _But she’s got to see what is really in front of her. I have to make her remember._ Growing determined, Regina kisses her cheek, then the corner of her mouth.

“I don’t know if I love you,” she murmurs, “but I’d like to hope that I could, in the future. This life we live isn’t perfect, but it’s ours. I would like you back, Emma, if you please.”

“I want you back too,” Emma replies, before they’re kissing slowly, gently – and this time, Regina doesn’t pull away. She can feel Emma’s magic beneath her soft skin, so very different from her own, yet it’s welcoming and _wanting_ , just like Regina’s is.

 _Hope,_ she thinks as they continue to mingle. _True Love. I have to- no, I will. I will open up again. We can have this together and it’ll be good, but not unless Emma wakes up. I won’t have this person who thinks she knows my coffee order because she was a barista, I won’t love anyone other than Emma Swan, who sawed at my apple tree and awoke our son with True Love’s kiss. I refuse to love anyone else like this. I **want** to love you, Emma._

She remembers the first time they met, outside her house when Henry between them, defiant and miserable, so full of hope. Emma, saying _hi_ and Regina questioning everything about her relationship with their son.

There’s a _kick_ to their magic, bursting outwards in what feels like a rainbow of colour rather than just wine red and cream. At the same time, her mind unlocks, the last year rushing through her – all the way from the first day to the last and they break apart.

“ _O, dioses,_ ” Regina murmurs. “Zelena took her. Zelena took Lucy.”

“You actually _had_ Lucy, is what surprises me,” Emma replies, sounding startled. “I have a daughter- _we_ have daughters. Together. Magic babies, without sex, this is so weird.”

Regina looks at the blonde woman, grimacing. “Apologies, but I wanted you to have something.”

“Well, I do have something – four somethings, now.”

“Four?” Regina hazards a guess that three of them are children: Henry, Lucy and Veronique. However, _four? Who or what is the last thing?_

“You, Regina,” Emma replies, a little tiredly. “This is so weird. In my head…sorry. I told you all those things-”

“No, it’s fine. You have to live with it now, however. It won’t go away,” Regina interrupts. “You have to distance yourself. It never happened. Nothing that happened in your fantasy was true.”

“The _last year_ happened, though,” Emma argues, “Henry hurt himself every day for _months_ , thinking you were dead. _Months_ , Regina. The last decade of my life apparently sucked and that’s fine, because I can deal with it, but our fake memories have consequences, _especially_ when time moves forwards.”

Regina recoils, “You said you looked after him.”

“And I did. I have been. Cursed me was suffering too, though. I- I can’t even breathe,” Emma sucks in a gasp of air, hand on her chest. “You said we’d be _happy_.”

“It was a mistake in wording, one natural forces took advantage of,” Regina reaches out, taking Emma’s free hand, noticing how her breathing gets more out of control. “You need to breath, Emma. Don’t faint on me.”

“Wish you’d said that four months ago,” Emma gasps, leaning slightly. Regina offers more support, even as she worries over Lucy, Henry and Roni – Lucy, more than anything.

“I wish you’d said the same to me,” Regina offers quietly. “Luckily, I had my brother and many friends, offering support.”

“I was alone, except for Henry. He refused to be sent away.”

“Let’s decide later whether that was a good thing or a bad thing,” Regina replies, keeping her own breathing steady as Emma begins to calm down, copying her instinctively. “I need you at your best, Sheriff.”

“I’m getting there, just give me a minute,” Emma puffs a bit of hair out of her face.

“I’m afraid that we don’t have that much time,” Regina says lowly. “My sister, Zelena, has everything she needs. It won’t take her long to realise she doesn’t have to wait for your sibling to be born to get a hold of a True Love child.”

“My _what_ now?”


	17. Chapter 17

_ The Land of Oz – Seven Months Ago _

She turns the mouse back into a man when they’re inside the hat, proving to Jefferson that he won’t be left behind again. Then, they go through the green door into the Emerald City, prowling through the shadows, listening for snatches of conversation about Dorothy Gale. Regina gladfully releases her captive after protecting the door from entry and sight, ignoring Jefferson’s quite commentary.

“What if she won’t come?”

 _She’ll come with us,_ Regina thinks, before they find her in the town square, surrounded by a small entourage of weaponised munchkins. Dorothy spies them soon enough, however – they look quite different from the usual denizen of Oz, after all, especially the Emerald City, full of tall citizens in silver and various shades of green.

“Who might you be, travellers?” the girl asks. She looks the part of a hero, Regina notes, with that crossbow. The dog at her side growls at them. “Toto doesn’t like you.”

“Not many animals like me,” Regina replies easily. “I am a Queen of the Enchanted Forest. This is my guide and defender, Jefferson Hightopp.”

“I am?” Jefferson questions, causing Regina to glare at him shortly.

“What is your business in the Emerald City?” Dorothy questions, suspicious.

Regina smiles at her, “Zelena. The Wicked Witch of the West has thought to release her savage flying monkeys and allow them free reign of the Enchanted Forest. Rumour held that you defeated her once, Miss Gale – for a brief time, that is.”

Dorothy scowls. “It was a trick. She even sent me back to Kansas. I returned when those who loved me passed away to find she was still in power. By then, she had dispensed of the rest of the Coven.”

“Coven?” Regina’s eyes widen slightly.

“Oz, as a realm, is located in the centre, surrounded by other lands such as the Enchanted Forest and Wonderland.” Jefferson adds, “As such, it’s crowded. Power from other realms leaches through and the Coven of Oz is supposed to temper it and absorb the excess. If Zelena removed the other Coven members, mayhaps she absorbed what they could not in their absence.”

“I’ve never heard it explained like that before,” Dorothy frowns. “Who are you, again?”

“Jefferson, the Mad Hatter of the Hightopp Line,” Jefferson dips his head, smile small. “A magic of my family allows me to create objects of power, giving people the ability to traverse realms – one of the only ways for those of the Enchanted Forest, now.”

“That’s enough,” Regina cuts him off there. _No need for everyone to know our business,_ she thinks, before looking to Dorothy, who still peers interestedly at Jefferson. _His magic, thankfully, isn’t hindered by it, what with his grand escape before the Curse first broke – and the Laws of the Hat bind me to return to our original destination, unless someone takes my place._ “Would you help us?”

“To defeat Zelena? Of course,” Dorothy agrees. Regina smiles.

“Lovely. Come with us.”

“ _Now?_ ” Dorothy exclaims, “Right now? Are you serious?”

“I’m on a bit of a time-limit,” Regina states, “and my sister’s monkeys like to turn my people into _more_ monkeys. I’m vastly running out of patience for her games. I want her dead – or at least not my problem, anymore.”

The munchkins by Dorothy’s side react to that, surrounding their lady protectively.

“The Evil Queen!”

“The Wicked Witch hates you!”

“You Cursed everyone and froze us for twenty-eight years!”

Unimpressed, Regina freezes them in place, looking to the still-mobile Dorothy, who steps back.

“You’re sister to that witch?”

“Trust me, I never knew or wanted to know in the first place, especially with how…envious she was of my life,” Regina replies, tilting her head and freezing Toto in place as well as he runs up to her, barking and growling. “Are you coming with us voluntarily or not?”

“Unfreeze the munchkins and Toto!” Dorothy commands and Regina raises an eyebrow.

“Those are your only terms?”

Dorothy glares at her, “Zelena _never_ returns to Oz – and we save the Coven. If what your…realm-hopper says is true, she only gets more powerful with them gone.”

“We’ll _try_ to save them,” Regina modifies the term, “I can’t promise we can do that, not without potentially going against my own word. The rest, I agree, so long as you stay until she is vanquished.”

“Deal,” Dorothy states. “Now unfreeze my guard.”

“Come out from behind them,” Regina waits until Dorothy is at her side and has picked up the frozen dog before she undoes her magic.

“Your Majesty,” Jefferson sighs tiredly, “truly, you need to work on your pleasantries.”

“I’m pregnant, I’m allowed right now,” Regina argues, stepping back as Toto tries to jump from Dorothy’s arms at her. “Make your dog quiet himself.”

“I don’t tell Toto what to do,” Dorothy replies.

* * *

“It was a bad idea, Regina,” David states in a hurried whisper as Dorothy and Snow greet each other. “He could have hurt you both.”

“If I thought we were in danger, I never would have approached him,” Regina says softly, eyes flickering to Jefferson, who stands only a few feet away, eyes – as ever – locked on her. “Grace’s mother was my cousin.”

“She was?”

“She was the oldest of us all,” Regina finds herself distracted, however, by the small boy of Locksley and Sherwood creeping around her skirts. “What is this? Is it a tiny archer?”

Roland peers up at her, all innocence and youth. “I’m playing hide and seek.”

“With who?” Regina questions, before she sweeps him up onto her hip, ignoring his wriggling. “You shouldn’t be in here, Ro.”

“But I don’t _want_ to learn letters,” he whines.

“Too bad,” Regina scans the room, soon finding a disgruntled looking Little John heading her way. “How about this – if I give you a treat after every second lesson, will you go to them all?”

Roland stops wriggling, “Treats?”

“Honey pastries, jam tarts and new toys,” Regina describes. Roland bites his lip, before nodding.

“Okay.”

Regina smiles. “Lovely,” she states, before handing the boy over to Little John as he comes to stand by them. “We have come to an arrangement, Mister John. Roland will attend his lessons without complaint and shall be rewarded every so often for his focus.”

“I’ll ask Robin when he gets back,” Little John replies uneasily, before disappearing out of the room.

“You’re good with him,” David praises. Regina rolls her eyes, smile disappearing, even as she wonders where Robin is.

“Of course I am. I raised Henry, after all and he was manipulative, even as a toddler. Roland is childsplay.”

“Toddlers can’t be manipulative,” David argues.

“You’ve never raised a child, you wouldn’t know,” Regina counters, immediately realising that was the wrong thing to say as an angry expression begins to grow on his face. “Apologies. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You were right, though,” Jefferson slips into their conversation. “Prince Charming here wouldn’t know much about raising children. That’s not to say he won’t know soon.”

“Excuse me?” Regina narrows her eyes, looking back at David, who’s anger has disappeared in the face of Jefferson’s words. “David, what does Jefferson mean?”

“Uh, well…I don’t know,” David’s shifty expression betrays his untruth. “Why would you say something like that, Jefferson?”

The Hatter snorts. “Why indeed. I would tell your closest, before making an official announcement, Your Highness.”

Feeling something unpleasant in her gut, Regina looks at Snow just in time to catch her placing a hand against her stomach, grinning as she talks to Dorothy about something or other. _Oh no,_ she thinks, _no._

“Is this _really_ the best time?” Regina questions David, incredulous and – she can’t even believe she’s feeling this – hurt. Like they’re stealing her thunder, except what’s good about her having a child of her own to these people? _I should have expected it,_ she thinks, before something else sneaks through her brain. _Emma’s inadequacy issues would skyrocket if she heard about this._

“It wasn’t like we planned it!” David defends, as if Regina cares about _planning_ when Snow’s children are concerned. “It’s not like you can say anything, either.”

Regina bristles, “Might I remind you that this is _my_ castle and I’m not adverse to kicking you out of it.”

“Our castle,” David replies, only increasing Regina’s ire for him in that moment. _Idiot shepherd_. Fed up with the Charmings, Regina puts her arm through Jefferson’s, hauling the madman out of the council room.

“Why bring me away with you, Your Majesty?”

“You’re the least annoying person in the entire realm, right now.”

Jefferson thinks on that for a moment, allowing Regina to lead him in a random direction so she can pace off her anger – though it’s doubtful whether it’ll leave or instead turn into pain, her back aching from spending so long standing. _I’ll have to switch out my heels, eventually,_ Regina thinks in annoyance, spare hand pressing against the solid bump in her torso. Very rapidly, she’s gaining in size now – Lucy getting bigger every day, it seems.

“You need to sit,” Jefferson states at some point, forcibly stopping her and setting them both down on a bench, below a portrait of Prince Henry.

“I don’t want to sit down,” Regina grumbles.

“Too bad.” Jefferson keeps their arms locked so Regina can’t move, before he reaches to run a finger down her nose. Regina jerks, giving him a look. “I can see the ties between you both, you know – you and your True Love.”

It says something about how much Regina’s been thinking over the issue that her mind doesn’t immediately jump solely to Daniel – instead, both Daniel _and_ Emma’s faces come to mind.

“Really?” Regina drawls, faking scepticism even as her heart pounds in her chest.

“Really,” Jefferson murmurs. “Realm-hopper, Dorothy called me. I’ve been called that before. It doesn’t quite encompass everything I can do, though. You know that.”

“I don’t remember much of what you can do, Jefferson.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Humour me,” Regina offers. “Explain what you see to me, using your words, Jefferson.”

His lip twitches. “Grace is starting to see it all. I can tell. She’s in denial, though, too locked in her new life with-”

“Enough,” Regina interrupts, seeing the amusement in his eyes grow to anger. “What do you see between Emma and I, Hatter?”

His expression clouds for a moment, before he nods. “Twins. Your daughters share a bond that crosses realms. When one is born, so shall the other be. The magic… _their_ magic is joined.”

Regina frowns. For a moment, she lets it sink in, wondering what that means in the future, if the future is the same. _If Lucy gave up her magic, did she give up her sisters as well?_ It would certainly change the dynamic of their relationship, no matter the circumstances.

“What does that mean for us?” She clarifies, “For I and Emma?”

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. True Loves are drawn together by destiny. I’m only telling you this because I can see it – the bond your children share traverses the walls between worlds, even the ones you put up on your way back here.”

“…anything else to add?”

Jefferson shrugs. “Not really. You remind me of Rosalie, when you’re like this. She didn’t like sitting down, either.”

“Seeing as we’re not actually related, that’s surprising,” Regina replies starkly.

“You were raised by Henry, Xavier’s son. She was raised by Mateo, Xavier’s son. They were both raised by the Queen Lady and Queen Consort. Nature versus nurture,” Jefferson eases back against the wall, slouching in place on the bench. “I always knew you were a child of Darkness, Regina. It runs through your veins and attacks the world around it when it isn’t contained within you. You aren’t natural.”

“Excuse you,” Regina says coldly. “I am perfectly natural.”

“For a bastard, yes; for a child of Darkness, no.”

“ _Enough!_ ” she hisses, trying to get out of Jefferson’s grip. “Let go of me, peasant!”

“And here I thought I was your guard,” he teases, but the crook of his arm squeezes hers and Regina is horrified at how he won’t let her go. “Sit, Your Majesty.”

“Let me go,” she demands. “Let me go, Jefferson.”

However, Jefferson won’t let go and a horrifying kind of calm sinks through her. Regina gently pulls, then she yanks and he grabs her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.

“It’s your fault. Just because you have a baby in that belly doesn’t mean you’re out of the maze, Queen of Diamonds. I find it funny that your mother is the Queen of Hearts, in both fashions.” _You’re not making any sense_ , Regina wants to say, but the thumb pressing against her skin and it hurts, his nail a hard line against the bottom of her lip. “The cards will tell the past, the present and the future as well, just from their placement in the deck…the Queen of Diamonds is judgement, fire and autumn, the security that everything dies and will be born again. That’s you, Regina.”

“ _Let me go,_ ” she whispers.

“I don’t forgive you,” he says, “I’ll never be able to forgive you, not like all the people in there.”

“ _Let me go, Jefferson._ ”

Jefferson’s eyes flicker over her shoulder, before an arrow imbeds itself in his hat. His grip doesn’t loosen as Robin speaks in a warning tone.

“I would let go of the Queen, before I shoot lower.”

Jefferson releases her, hands coming up as he stands, Regina stiff as a board on the bench as he strolls backwards, easily bypassing an infamous wonky slab in the floor that had tripped more than a few intruders. He still has his hat on and he takes it off, inspecting the arrow still stuck inside it. Regina looks to Robin for a moment, loathe to take her eyes off the Hightopp for a moment. Her soulmate – her platonic soulmate, a person who is supposed to understand her as a friend and be on her side – stands there, arrow at the ready, aimed right at Jefferson with not a hint of fear on his determined face.

“Your Majesty, are you alright?” Robin questions – Regina doesn’t answer him. She can hear the strain of his bow as he pulls it back, tighter. “Sir, it would do you well to leave the premises.”

“As the Jack requests,” Jefferson bows to Regina and Robin in turn before twisting the hat on his head, disappearing in a rush of magic, with not a trace of his existence left behind except in how Regina’s skin feels prickly from his touch and her arm feels like lead.

“Your Majesty- Regina,” Robin comes over to her, kneeling in front of her. “Milady, are you harmed?”

“…no, no. Just…shaken.”

“He will not see you again, milady, I swear it,” Robin purses his lips, before standing and setting his bow and arrow away, sweeping her into his arms. Not expecting it, Regina flails for a moment before latching her arms around his neck. “Your quarters?”

Regina clears her throat. “You have to stop sweeping me off my feet.”

Robin gives a small grin, “But why, my lady? Surely you would not suggest I set down my chivalry and good manners!”

“Good manners, pfft,” Regina shakes her head, even as she inwardly thanks the gods that Robin is carrying her. She feels like she wouldn’t be able to walk or move without assistance – too wrapped up in remembering her mother and her magic, just _waiting_ for the pain to come.

“I _do_ have good manners,” Robin argues, beginning the trek to her rooms. “For instance, I call you by your proper titles-”

“When you’re not being overly familiar,” Regina interjects.

“-and I most certainly wash my hands before meals. I am also true to my bond, unless circumstances prove otherwise.” He glances at her stomach. “If I may, though, Your Majesty, did that man truly do either of you any harm? I would have thought you’d protest more at this form of transport.”

“Why do people say either?” Regina instead questions. “She has not been born yet and already, people are treating her like a person. They shouldn’t – she’s a fetus.”

“You call her _she_ ,” Robin points out.

“I’ve met my daughter – she came from the future, shortly before we returned here,” Regina admits, to Robin’s surprise.

“And what was she like?”

Regina can’t help but sigh, mumbling, “Beautiful. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“And you say that we shouldn’t treat her like a person,” Robin turns a corner, coming to the stairs up to where her rooms are located. He eyes them briefly, before shuffling her in his arms, making the climb.

“You don’t have to hold me,” Regina states, even though it feels nice to be held – to be touched, voluntarily.

“Yet, I wish to. Little John says, despite his reservations, Roland would be safe with you. If my right hand trusts you with my son, then _I_ in turn, trust _you_.”

His words make Regina feel a little lost. Being judged over children rather than her past actions – or rather, being judged over children in spite of her past actions – is such an unusual way to be seen. Emma was the only one to ever do that, who saw Henry, saw that he was unhappy and decided that it was Regina’s fault, as his parent, that he was scared and so determined for a supposed fantasy to be real.

“Lucy’s going to look like me,” Regina blurts out as he nears the top of the stairs, suddenly desperate to spend more time with him. “She’s going to have my hair and my face,” she states, unable to remember her clearly. Time has dragged on and Regina has been too focused on remembering her son at all ages to conserve the flash image of her daughter, too.

“Roland looks like my wife,” Robin shares quietly. “Every time I look at him, I see her. It keeps my memory of her…fresh.”

“Henry looks like me too,” Regina adds at the same volume. “I always thought it was a superficial thing – I adopted him. It turns out, he’s my nephew, too. Henry looks like _me_.” She shuts her eyes, briefly, missing Henry so much in that moment. “He’s got my eyes and my papa’s hair, lots of Charming features but he smiles like Emma and me both, depending on the circumstance.”

“You miss him terribly – so is it crass to say I enjoy this conversation, Your Majesty?” Robin says as he finishes climbing the stairs, shifting her in his arms. “Or rather, that I enjoy conversing with you.”

“It would be a shame if it ended so quickly,” Regina agrees, staring at a patch of stubble on his neck blankly as she thinks of Henry. _He liked apple cinnamon pancakes for so long and he always forgot to put his socks in the laundry when he got home from school._ Blinking out of her thoughts, she looks directly at Robin’s face. “Join me in my lounge, for a time?”

“If milady wills it,” he replies, before coming up to her doors. Regina opens them with a snap of her fingers, closing them behind her as Robin goes to set her on the chaise lounge. He joins her on the end, after a moment, as she gets comfortable in the crook of the armchair.

“Tell me about your wife,” Regina asks, thoughts briefly dwelling on the people downstairs – of the Charmings and their new child, to replace Emma and Dorothy, who could prove anything to invaluable to useless in their cause to defeat Zelena. _Distract me,_ she thinks at Robin.

Robin’s smile turns wistful at her question. “Her name was Marian and she was the most beautiful creature in all the realms – to me. We met when I thought to steal her family’s horse, their livelihood…”


	18. Chapter 18

_ The Enchanted Forest – Five Months Ago _

“And you’re _completely_ sure this won’t kill you?” Baelfire questions his sister once more.

Cody sighs quietly, before brushing a flake of spring snow off her cheek. She makes her way across the dewy grass with the Key that Belle has kept so safe around her neck for the past six months. Baelfire can’t quite believe they’re finally reviving his father – but he’s far from happy that his sister will be taking the fall.

At his side, Belle clutches his hand, staring at her daughter. Baelfire can’t quite imagine how she feels, watching her child walk up to death’s door – something that supposedly ‘can’t kill her’. Baelfire has doubts, but he remembers her comment from Neverland about looking so young and not _truly being young_. Immortality comes to his family far too often, he believes.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Belle questions, worried and heart-broken. “If you die doing this-”

“Mama, hush,” Cody interrupts, soothing her but not looking at her. “I know of things to come and yet I don’t. This, I can and will survive – Papa just has to let me help and I know, I know all things come with a price, yet this one can be thwarted later. Trust me…”

Baelfire watches as Cody kneels down on the half-covered Vault door, pressing the Key unceremoniously into the middle. Immediately an orange light – power, a magic – flows through the circle, flowing outwards and up the key. Cody hisses in pain, pulling back her hand sharply, flapping it about briefly before looking at her palm. From the distance he stands away, Baelfire can see a burn in the shape of a triangle, but that’s it – though, he imagines that it might match the sigil on the Key.

Cody sets herself back on her haunches as the circle sinks into the ground, becoming a black, bubbling mass of Darkness. Baelfire hears Belle speaking to herself in another language, one he’s heard before but can’t identify. _She sounds like she’s praying,_ he thinks, before adding his own prayers to the Gods, wishing that his father will accept what Cody’s offering.

The Darkness grows, up and up until it drops away, revealing his father standing there with lizard-skin and claws, the Dagger trapped in his grip. He’s facing Cody and when he looks down, he stares at her for a moment, before they all get to watch as Cody raises her hands, life-force shifting across her bare skin like dust in the wind.

“No,” Rumplestiltskin says. “No, you’re my daughter, _no-_ ” he launches himself forwards and downwards, dropping the Dagger as he wraps his arms around a now-smiling Cody. “Don’t do this!”

“Too late and Papa? It’s this, either me or Baelfire and I have so many more years to give,” she states, Baelfire not stopping Belle from rushing forwards to join them. He’s quick to follow, after all. They kneel on the ground as Cody slumps into Rumple’s grip, that strange, dust-like power flowing into him.

“You can’t control it, your magic isn’t present, dearie,” Rumple states, clutching her to his chest. “I’ll find a way – we’ll get it back to you, so this can work like you planned.”

Cody laughs a little, but it turns into a pained gasp, before a new figure is there – so _close_ to them and Baelfire hadn’t even realised. By the time he’s found the person, found the green-skinned _Zelena_ his sister had warned him of only a month ago through a mirror, she’s already clasping the Dagger.

“Why, Colette?” Zelena demands angrily, staring at Cody. His sister smiles at her, even as Baelfire and Belle stare in horror at the Dagger in her grasp. “Why would you do this?”

“Sacrificing my immortality is the only way I’m ever going to get to leave the Coven, sister,” she replies. “I was the Witch of the East for far too long, though you probably don’t know that Glinda and Aloisia are both far older than even I am. That’s part of the parcel, though you wouldn’t have been told till you brought it up with us.”

“I don’t understand,” Zelena says, frustrated. “Why would _you_ do this, though? How did you even escape my prison? Were _you_ the one to collapse them all?”

“I was, yes, but unfortunately for me, I don’t have a lot of time to talk,” Cody turns in Rumplestiltskin’s arms, till she’s laying with her back against him. Zelena hisses, stepping forth, hand outstretched, but Rumple growls at her, holding her close.

“Where is your necklace?” Zelena demands.

“Safe, far from here,” Cody smiles in triumph, before shuddering. Rumplestiltskin presses her against himself as she closes her eyes.

“…it won’t work,” Zelena states in a warning tone, pointing his own Dagger at him, “Dark One, you know it’s inevitable.” Rumplestiltskin reaches his hand out sharply, obviously trying to call the Dagger to him. Zelena tuts. “You know you can’t hang on to both.”

Baelfire goes from kneeling to crouching, then and when his father lowers his hands, he lunges for the Dagger, only to be frozen in place by green magic. He can’t move, stuck and Zelena laughs, but it fades and dies as she watches his father. In his periphery, Baelfire can see him glowing blue – see Cody _sink_ into his chest as Belle watches, crying out and holding his head as he collapses.

“Wow. I didn’t think you had it in you. To think, she’s a stranger to you. Are you really that suicidal?” Zelena questions, before turning on Baelfire. “Now, what about you? You tried to take _this_ from me,” she waves the Dagger in his face, tapping his forehead. “I think a little retribution is in order. How about…a _spy?_ ”

Then, her hand plunges into his chest and it _hurts_. Baelfire wants to gasp, shudder in pain, _anything_ , but he remains frozen as she tears his heart from his chest.

“Your father’s lost himself,” Zelena stage-whispers to him, unfreezing him and speaking to his heart. “Watch them.”

Baelfire can’t resist the command and turns to watch Belle cradle his father, dropping to his knees at the solid _emptiness_ in his chest.

“Rumple? Rumple-”

“No room, no room, no Rumple! Heart, his heart, my _head-_ ”

“Enough of this, now.” Zelena interrupts his desperate ravings. “Your madness is your burden, not mine. It’s time to go. But before we do, take her heart for me, would you?”

Belle barely has any time to gasp at the sensation before Rumple rips it from her chest. Baelfire doesn’t understand, watching his father cradle it. _Why would he do that? He showed no resistance, whatsoever!_

“Oh, the perils of love,” Zelena sighs. “If I told you to kill her, you wouldn’t do it, would you? Stand up and give the heart to me.” She reaches out, waiting, but this time, _this time_ he struggles against the command. “Really? _Really?_ We all know that belongs to you, Rumple dear – you’ve been ever so vocal about your love for her – but I’m the one with the Dagger, here. Her heart: give it to me.”

“No, Papa,” Baelfire watches as his father gets to his feet, stumbling and pulling out of Belle’s grip as she stares at him, barely able to cry. Zelena laughs as the second heart is given to her, Baelfire’s already gone and disappeared. Zelena holds Belle’s heart gently for a moment, eyeing it, before squeezing lightly – Belle’s cry of pain drawing a concurrent one from his Papa.

“This will do nicely,” Zelena murmurs, before twirling the Dagger in hand. “Dark One, you are in my power now. How does it feel? Actually, don’t answer that.” She looks between Belle and Baelfire. “As for you two, no mentioning how heartless you are or anything that happened here. Go back to your normal lives, pretend everything is fine. Shoo.”

Zelena must still have his heart on her person, because Baelfire stands, joining the shaky Belle as they walk away, looking back on the sorcerers in pain – hearts aching, chests empty.

 _We’ll find a way to tell people,_ Baelfire promises his Papa, shuffling along the wet ground, thinking of how he absorbed Cody into himself. _We’ll find her magic, too, so she doesn’t die. I promise._

But still, however, they leave, unable to stop themselves.

* * *

_ The Enchanted Forest – Six Months Ago _

“I can go without an honour guard, you know,” Regina murmurs to Mulan as Dorothy leads the way to her coven-sisters. Trudging through the forest with both the warrior and the wolf at her side is more amusing than anything, however, no matter what danger Robin believes could harm her.

“I swore an oath to protect you,” Mulan answers simply, offering a hand as a particularly large incline approaches. Regina accepts the hand, thankful for the help. Her back aches from all the walking she’s been doing recently – though she’d rather walk than be the only one on a horse. “I would prefer to fulfil that oath from the inside of a castle, however.”

“I’m not leaving Snow to go off on her own,” Regina argues. “She’s in the same boat as me.”

“Snow’s not six months pregnant,” Red quips, before they all see Dorothy stop in a clearing. “Has she found them, do you think?”

“Let us hope she has,” Regina replies, before the three of them join Dorothy as she hesitantly reaches out, hissing at the magical shield that appears, before a door within a frame shimmers into existence a few feet further forwards. “If I may,” she calls out, coming to stand by Dorothy’s side. Touching the shield, Regina raises an eyebrow at the lack of barrier.

 _Interesting,_ she thinks, before crooking her finger at David. “Come here.”

He steps forth, hand on his sword. “What is it?”

“I’m testing a theory,” Regina replies. “Reach out.”

David reaches out – and as expected, his hand goes through easily.

“It only stops me,” Dorothy gathers, glaring at it.

“Don’t worry, dear, these things are easy enough to break. Give me your hand,” Regina holds out her own, waiting till Dorothy has taken it before twisting it gently, till Dorothy’s palm is facing outwards. Gently pressing forwards until the shield reappears, Regina ignores Dorothy’s pained grimace, reaching out to shatter it easily. The _crack_ echoes through the clearing, before a beam of light slams into Dorothy’s chest, knocking her over onto her back.

“Dorothy!” Snow exclaims, having made fast-friends with the fellow outlaw. Helping the Gale to her feet, Regina raises an eyebrow at Dorothy’s hands – now glowing with a strange, grey magic. “What did you do?” Snow questions Regina.

“I suppose this is what Jefferson meant,” Regina replies vaguely, meeting eyes with Dorothy, watching the understanding light in her face. _You absorbed that magic,_ she thinks, hoping Dorothy realises that part in the case that they don’t get alone-time to speak about it together. “That shield was barely more than a sheet of glass. Zelena probably only put it up so Dorothy wouldn’t be able to speak to the other witches.”

“Would breaking it set off any alarms?” Mulan questions.

“No, not with a shield that small,” Regina replies, before heading to the door, opening it. She expects a portal – not an empty doorframe. “Of course. Useless. Obviously, Zelena knew someone might want to find them.”

“Maybe it’s just not the right time,” Snow suggests. “Or maybe it needs to be activated.”

“It’s there,” Dorothy frowns before questioning Regina. “Can’t you feel it?”

“Yes, but it’s a decoy,” Regina insists, snapping, back aching perilously. Red comes to loop an arm around her shoulder.

“I think Snow’s right. It’s not the right time. Let’s all sit down – we’ve been walking for hours, after all,” the wolf suggests as Regina sneers at her. “Don’t make faces like that, Your Majesty. You’ll be stuck with them if the wind changes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, _wolfie_ ,” she snits, before going to sit on a nearby boulder, ignoring her two guards as they come to join her. _How Robin got Red’s oath, I have no idea._ Luckily, she’s not the only one who accepts Red’s proposal, David handing out rations. Curiosity driving her as she digs into her sandwich, Regina asks the werewolf. “Why are you guarding me?”

Red glances at her, swallowing her mouthful. “Snow asked me to.”

Suddenly floored, Regina jolts. “Excuse me?”

“Snow, she asked me to guard you,” Red shrugs, smile a little sad. “I don’t mind. Henry wouldn’t want you to get hurt, either and he was a good kid.”

“Is,” Regina corrects, slightly distant as she looks to Snow, raising an eyebrow as David hands her a flower. She raises her voice to call to them, “We’re at the edge of the Dark Forest, trying to find a coven of witches who may or may not be able to stop Zelena from carrying out whatever dastardly plan she has cooking up – and you two stop to smell the roses?”

Snow blinks at her, holding the flower up, “Snowbells.”

“I don’t care if they are dancing daffodils. I need to destroy my sister,” Regina states, looking to where Dorothy sits cross-legged in front of the open door. Just then, she hears a small yip and twists, grimacing at the sight of Toto coming out of the forest. “Ugh.”

“He’s not so bad,” Red elbows her lightly, watching as the dog comes up to join Dorothy, easily convincing the young woman to give him the innards of her sandwich. Once he’s snaffled the cooked ham, he runs through the doorway-

-and disappears.

“Toto?” Dorothy exclaims, before he comes back through, barking. Dorothy picks him up as the camp reverses into livelihood again. “It’s an invisible portal!”

“Of course,” Regina says, irked by her own idiocy. “A cloaking spell-” she steps forwards, going through the doorway, but nothing happens. She turns, glaring furiously. “What the hell?” Stomping forwards, Regina hardly expects to step through a portal her second time around.

It’s like any portal – a wave of transportation power, before she’s in a new environment. Startled, Regina looks around, blinking at the sight of an arid, desert-like…room. Regina can see where it stops and ends and briefly wonders how Zelena and Dorothy’s coven-sisters haven’t gone mad from being in such close quarters. Wary, she steps further into the landscape, avoiding the cactus strategically placed right in front of the door.

“Hey.”

Regina nearly has a heart-attack, jumping sideways into the cactus plant as a figure appears beside her. Hissing in pain, she uses her magic to banish the pins now stuck in her dress, but avoids vanishing those in her hand.

“Apologies,” the woman takes her wrist gently, waving her hand over her hand. Blue magic swirls around it, banishing the pins and healing her scrapes. “It’s nice to see you, Regina.”

“Who are you?” Regina questions, befuddled, looking at the witch. There’s something familiar about her, she realises, but it doesn’t click until she takes in the rest of her – dressed in blue with lace sleeves and a belt around her waist. Regina’s eyes widen. “Cody?”

“I see you’ve met me,” Cody replies, before looking to the doorway. Regina twists her head around, seeing Dorothy. “Hello, Miss Gale.”

“Colette?” Dorothy questions, letting out a relieved sound when Cody nods, avoiding the cactus as she comes over to give the time-traveller a short hug. “Where are Aloisia and Glinda?”

“Glinda is through the door, technically, but Aloisia is trapped beneath us – we’re in a layered reality, like a three-story building, except I have a fire-escape,” Cody says, causing Dorothy to blink in confusion. “I have a back-door. Literally. Aloisia is trapped on the third floor.”

“Oh,” Dorothy replies, before Regina interjects.

“How do we get you out?”

“You’re here on a rescue mission?” Cody questions, sounding surprised. “I thought you’d be here to ask about Zelena.”

“We are, but getting you out of this hell-hole is our first priority,” Regina mutters, even angrier at her wicked witch of a sister for _daring_ to imprison her only other female relative by blood left – or rather, to be.

“How did you find us?” Cody asks them both.

“I’m connected to you all,” Dorothy explains, glancing at Regina. “The Queen helped me get in touch with it.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Cody’s eyes widen. “You are _actually_ a Coven member. I didn’t realise – I knew Zelena wasn’t defeated, but _two_ West Witches?”

“Not to interrupt,” Regina stops Cody from continuing her little monologue. “Answer the question. How do we get you out of here?”

Cody purses her lips. “I’m going to assume you’ve not heard from Rumplestiltskin.”

“No,” Regina replies, frowning. She glances at Dorothy surreptitiously. _We shouldn’t talk of time travel in front of unknowns,_ she concludes. “Is it important?”

“It could be. I know how to collapse these pocket realities, but it would involve something quite dangerous for me, personally.” Her hand rises to her neck, pulling out a large jewelled necklace from beneath her high collar, resting it over the fabric. Regina realises she’s seen something like it before – on Zelena. “This necklace is latched to my magic.”

“It’s _what?_ ” Regina hisses, eyes blowing wide. It doesn’t take her much to figure out what Cody is willing to do, to collapse the prison. “I can’t do that to you.”

“What has that got to do with this?” Dorothy questions.

“That necklace is a curse on sorcerers everywhere,” Regina replies. “Likely, what with the magic of Oz and the leak, it allows a safe absorption of excess magic – but it takes your own natural power into itself as well. I’m willing to bet dearly that Zelena tied these prisons to each necklace. _Colette_ here is willing to give us her necklace to take out the door, removing the power-source and causing a chain reaction of collapsing reality bubbles.”

“And that’s so bad?”

“Didn’t you hear anything I said?” Regina barks. “It takes in natural power. If we remove it from her possession, she’ll no longer be connected to it and have _zero_ magic. It will all be collected inside the necklace, which unless broken or returned would never allow Colette to practice magic ever again.”

“It’s not all bad,” Cody replies. “So long as you give it back to me at the appropriate time, it’ll work,” she states, before unclasping it from around her neck, holding it out to Dorothy. “Keep it on you, hidden from sight. Regina can teach you how or do it herself.”

Dorothy accepts the necklace after a moment of hesitation, placing it around her neck. Regina swallows, watching the blue turn to a milky grey shot with white and sky blue, rather than navy.

“Now, you leave,” Cody states.

“How long will it take for this place to collapse?” Regina demands an answer.

“Minutes, at most. We’ll get out in time, don’t worry,” Cody assures Regina, reaching out to take her shoulder. “Aloisia is listening in while Glinda is occupied. She’ll make sure I get out – I’m the one with the backdoor, after all. Just wait. We won’t be long.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Regina says in a threatening voice, glowering at Cody’s slight smirk before she twists, grabbing Dorothy’s arm. “Come one.”

They leave the room, not looking back. When she steps through, Regina is faced with Mulan, Red and Toto, the latter of which coming to Dorothy’s feet. As she picks him up, Regina takes the moment to place a glamour over Cody’s necklace, disguising it as a talisman to ward off wild beasts. Red seems to catch the movement, more familiar with magic than Mulan, who looks rather stressed at her disappearance.

“We haven’t got long,” Regina warns. “I’d step back. There might be a backlash of magic.”

“Who did you see?” Red questions.

“Colette of the East,” Dorothy replies for them both. “She’s good-hearted. Do not fear her-”

There comes a sudden, horrid _tearing_ noise and Regina pulls Dorothy away from the door in time not to be over-run by Snow and Charming, who are followed by who could only be Glinda, Good Witch of the North – and then, out comes Cody and a dark-skinned woman, ‘Aloisia’, most likely. Regina manages to grab Snow’s arm before the dogpile of witches and David can pull her down and then, the door explodes in a fiery, green _pop_.

Luckily, there’s no debris to hit them with, but the magical backlash still turns Regina’s stomach and makes her want to throw up. However, she abstains – Snow has no such compulsion and staggers over to her precious snowbell patch to upchuck her sandwich.

“Are you alright?” Dorothy helps her coven-members to their feet, hands gripping them tightly, but briefly. _She never had a chance to stay with them,_ Regina remembers, thinking of her old friends – Mal, Cruella and Ursula, united as the Queens of Darkness. _We hated each other at times and were enemies more than once, but we were friends, all the same. How they would view me now, siding with my ‘true enemies’, falling in with the light…_

 _We weren’t a coven, though,_ Regina thinks, deciding to spare Mulan some more stress and going to her side, the woman-warrior seemingly glad for it.

“We’re fine, young Dorothy,” Glinda states, in answer to Dorothy’s question. “But you must leave. Zelena will have felt the destruction of her creation.”

“Right, of course – come on,” Dorothy tries to tug Glinda along with them, but the witch doesn’t move. “We need to go,” she states.

“ _You_ need to go,” Glinda corrects, looking to her sisters. “Teach Dorothy how to use her magic, Aloisia. Find your correct path, Colette. I will hold off the Wicked Witch of the West.”

“No!” Dorothy exclaims harshly. “We will defeat her together, but not today.”

“I have no intention to defeat her, sweet sister,” Glinda presses her hand to Dorothy’s face before leaning over, pressing a gentle, familial kiss to her lips. She forces off Dorothy’s hand, having much the same interaction with Aloisia and Cody, who strokes her pale cheek fondly.

“Blessings upon you,” they say, before the screech of a flying monkey echoes through the Dark Forest.

“Zelena,” David hisses, before he looks to Regina. “Can you get us out of here?”

“Done,” Regina states, not looking to the Kansas-born witch as she cries out in denial, transporting them back to her castle. “I hope you learnt what you needed from Glinda,” Regina looks to the Charmings, who nod, looking shaken – but not as shaken, not as _angry_ as Dorothy, who rages.

“Take me back! We can’t just leave her behind!” she stalks over to Regina, but Mulan already had her sword out when Regina came through the door – she raises it when Dorothy approaches.

“Stay back. Her Majesty is under my protection.”

Dorothy sends a hateful look at them both, before rushing away, Toto at her heels.


	19. Chapter 19

_ Storybrooke – the Far Future _

The whipping of the wind quiets the voices in her head. Sitting out on the furthest edge of the harbour, not even trying to balance – just _balancing_ , having spent so many years on the _Jolly Roger_ that it seems unreal to think of a time where she never sailed or fell asleep to the rocking of the water.

A tugging comes from the water and she looks down to see Liam. He’s still so young in human terms but he isn’t human, so maybe Tinkerbell shouldn’t judge him by them – maybe she never should have. His dark hair is plastered to his forehead, still dripping water from his cross-realm swim, billowing white shirt only staying strapped against his torso because of his father’s belt. Tinkerbell can see the glint of a trident in place of Killian Jones’ old sword.

 _I miss you,_ she thinks, hoping he’s happy in his afterlife – that he’s with the rest of their family.

“Mama, are you coming?”

“Just a moment longer, Liam,” Tinkerbell reaches down, taking his hand tightly. She leans like that for a few seconds before sitting up, then standing, twisting to look back at Storybrooke. In the distance the clocktower is being repainted and she can see Grace’s grown daughter jogging along the waterside with her mother’s old golden lab and her own hoard of puppies. Tinkerbell can’t remember either of their names.

“Mama, the King won’t wait forever. We have an appointment.”

“Ariel would schedule me another next year,” Tinkerbell states, before her eyes light up at the sight of Blue heading towards her. “One more minute, Liam,” she says, walking along the blue plastic dock to the wooden ones, where Blue hesitates.

Her mentor doesn’t hesitate to wrap her in a hug. “I wish you well, Tinkerbell.”

“You too, Blue,” Tinkerbell presses a kiss to her cheek in farewell, before reaching into her hair. Blue accepts the wand, holding it to her heart like it’s something to treasure. “Don’t forget me.”

“I will never forget you,” Blue promises, before Liam calls for her in mermish. “You’d better go. Good luck with your new life, in Atlantis.”

“Have fun watching over Storybrooke,” Tinkerbell offers in turn before stepping back. She can hear her sisters in her mind, saying their soft goodbyes, but it’s Blue she hears, even as she walks away – a presence so familiar and comforting.

 _I love you,_ it says and when Tinkerbell slips into the water, the enchantment of Ariel’s old bracelet activating for the last time, she feels free.

* * *

_ The Enchanted Forest – Four Months Ago _

It was too early, but Regina can’t argue that it makes her heart burst every time she sees her daughter. Lucy is beautiful, with green eyes like Emma and a small, surprising tuft of soft blonde hair on top of her head that David whispers reminds him of his daughter, when she was born. Regina can see it, though she wonders from Lucy’s future self if her hair will darken with age.

“She’s so small,” Roland whispers in awe from where he sits with her on the end of her bed, Robin at his back. He had insisted on being the first and lost out to Lucy’s blood family – Regina, obviously, along with Baelfire, Snow and David – but managed sixth place, behind his father; Doc and his assistant, not included.

“You won’t be able to play with her for a while,” Regina states, glad she was given the chance to wash and change before her baby was handed around. Her room is full to the brim with people more than she would have thought cared. Truthfully, the two people she knows the least – Dorothy and Aloisia – don’t have a chance at being kicked out. Regina is happy to share her joy.

…though, she would like her baby back soon, at least just for a moment or two. Maybe it’s because she was so possessive over Henry as a baby, but she feels safe to let them all take a look at Lucy, this time around.

“Spring babies don’t need to stay as warm as autumn and winter babies do,” Granny says gruffly from the side, bringing out a cream blanket with pink ribbon around the edges. Regina’s eyes widen at the sight of it. “However, I thought tradition might take precedence here. I’ll make up a thinner one, come summer-time when it’ll be too hot for the princess, but for now…”

“Thank-you,” Regina says, heartfelt as she takes it, unfolding the knitting, hand quickly finding Lucy’s name on a triangle of white in the corner. “ _Thank-you,_ ” she says again, Roland making a noise of protest as Snow scoops Lucy up to hand back to Regina. Swapping out the white cloth, Regina wraps her daughter up in her own baby blanket, happy to be surrounded by friends and family.

“Emma Lucy,” she whispers, kissing her nose and forehead. “Lucy for short.”

“No long name?” David jokes.

“Ah, but that’s for the official announcement, Grandpa,” Regina states, yawning quietly. “Give me a few hours to recover and then we can see about arranging a naming celebration.”

“Alright, everyone out, now,” Doc announces when she’s finished speaking. “Immediate family only. The Queen needs her rest.”

“I want to hold her again,” Roland crawls over to her, but before he can burrow into her side, Robin snatches him away.

“You can see the princess again, but later, Roland.”

“Later,” Regina agrees, before the archer shares a nod with her, taking his complaining child from the room. When only Snow, David and Baelfire are left, Doc takes his leave, also. Regina looks to her brother. “Is it wrong to want my mother here?”

“Not Papa?” he questions mildly.

“It’s my first child by blood,” she replies, not looking at Snow and David as she cradles Lucy against her chest. “She probably would hate her.”

“Well, I know that our Papa would cry,” Baelfire giving a slight smile, but as ever, since his failure to find someone that would trade their life for the Dark One’s, it disappears quickly. Regina would say he had depression, but honestly? She remembers losing her mother and despite their complicated relationship, grieving for her took longer than she’d like to admit – and she’s still not over what she did to her Daddy, even with his blessing. _Grieving for your parents is always hard_.

“She’s beautiful, Regina,” Snow says for the fifty-millionth time that evening. “Emma would cry as well, I think.”

“I’d hope so,” the Queen replies, recalling how Lucy is supposedly twins with- with… _I can’t remember. What was Lucy’s twin called?_ “This _is_ her daughter, too and she’s supposedly having our other daughter right now, in the Land Without Magic.”

“Roni,” David smiles gently. “Veronique, I suppose.”

“Roni Swan,” Regina mumbles, thankful that David filled in the blank for her. “Lucy and Roni, Roni and Lucy…”

“Emma Swan the second?” Snow queries, causing Regina to snort.

“Oh, no, Emma Mills, more like. On the slim chance we ever go back there, her name is Emma Lucy Mills – _not_ Swan, not like Veronique.”

“Won’t you tell us her full name?” Snow asks, pouting. “And wouldn’t you want to be called Gold, now you know?”

Regina raises her eyebrows at Snow, sharing a look with Baelfire. “No. It’s a nice fantasy, but we’re Royal, Snow. We don’t have last names. As for her full name, _Luciana_ is technically part of it. Now, I want to talk to my brother in private, so shoo,” she looks balefully at them, not accepting Snow’s further pouting. Luckily, David respects her more than usual right now, so he convinces Snow to leave.

“What did you want to talk about?” Baelfire questions, settling himself lazily in the chair by her bed.

“Emilia Luciana Karmen Rosalia.”

“…right, that’s her long name. Great, sis. Why tell me?”

“Because you’re my brother and therefore, her closest living relative that isn’t a Charming,” Regina states, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “You will look after her if something happens to me, do I make myself clear?”

Baelfire’s eyes go wide. “Crystal, Gina. I…I didn’t realise you had thought that, well…not _far ahead_ , but-”

“It’s a possibility,” Regina states bluntly. “I don’t know if Zelena is aware that we’re related. Obviously, she wants revenge. If you have to, I want you to take her and hide her away in our father’s castle with Belle. Between the two of you – and my honour guard, if they go with you – you should be able to care for her adequately. It would make sense, as well, considering Henry.”

His expression shifts. “You adopted my son. So, what? If you do, I’ve got to be your daughter’s father?”

“I will expect it, yes,” Regina glares lightly, but Baelfire is quick to nod.

“I understand – I get it, even. But, let’s not think to much on it. I’d rather be an uncle to this kid of yours, anyway.”

“Good. Thank-you.”

“No thanks needed,” he smiles at her then. “Anything for my baby sister.”

Regina rolls her eyes.

* * *

_ Storybrooke – Now _

_Our memories are all back_ , Killian realises, before he shoots to his feet, eyes searching the _Jolly Roger_ for his wife.

“Tinkerbell!” he calls out, frantic and terrified, knowing now that Zelena has their son hostage. He thinks of Liam – of the shimmering grey-green scales of his tail and the shell-necklaces that he made for them both to show his love. He remembers how Ariel and her prince found him at the suggestion of Cody Scarlet – _Cody, Gold’s daughter from the future, the time traveller_ – and introduced the orphaned merboy to them, saying that he needs a home and a family, things they couldn’t give him.

“Hook!” Tinkerbell comes on up from beneath the deck, stumbling in her haste to get to him. “Liam, Zelena-”

“We’ll retrieve him, love, we’ll find him,” Killian grips her tight, unable to stop the tears from gathering around his eyes. “We need to join forces with the others, now more than ever.”

“I’ll- I’ll phone someone,” Tink reaches into her pocket, hands shaking as she struggles to find the keypad. Killian watches her, bringing her close against his chest when she successfully finds Baelfire’s contact number, calling him. It rings and rings, before he finally picks up. “Bae.”

“ _Tink,_ ” Baelfire breathes, sounding shaken. “ _Our memories are back. What’s up?_ ”

“Zelena has our son hostage,” Tink doesn’t hesitate, shoulders shaking beneath him. “She- she has him, Bae. His name’s Liam. We adopted him during the Missing Year. I don’t know what to do.”

“ _Come to the diner, I’ll arrange something – everyone will gather there. I won’t be there, though, or Belle._ ”

“Why?” Tinkerbell asks.

“ _I’m not allowed to say. Neither is Belle. Trust me when I say that you do **not** want us there while you plan everything out. Things happened in the Enchanted Forest that we didn’t tell people. This is normal though, this- telling you, coming clean, that’s fine._ ” His words don’t make him sound fine though and it makes Killian worry.

“You aren’t making sense, Bae,” Tinkerbell looks up at Killian, who frowns deeply.

“ _I can’t say. I’m sorry. Just go to Granny’s, I’ll make sure the word goes out before we sequester ourselves away._ ”

“Okay,” Tinkerbell nods, “we’ll go. Thank-you.”

“ _It’s nothing. I’ll see you later._ ” Baelfire hangs up and Tinkerbell looks up at Killian, the two sharing an understanding – that Baelfire and apparently Belle are _not_ as fine as they pretend, that something is wrong.

“To the diner?” Killian questions, instead of addressing the issue.

“To the diner.”

* * *

Her first steps into Granny’s as Emma Swan, Saviour, are tentative. Inside, there are dozens of people – familiar faces and others, who Regina quietly assure are allies. Their hands are joined, a comforting gesture for herself that Regina had raised eyebrows at when they exited the Mercedes. Emma looks around, finding her parents, who smile at the sight of her – but as Regina said, her mother is pregnant, a balloon of baby.

Ironically, what makes her feel safe? Roni’s whining.

Hearing the familiar babble and crying, Emma is quick to lead Regina over to their daughter. _Our daughter,_ Emma thinks, both surprised and warm at the thought. Ruby, who had been trying to quiet her with soft _shhhs_ and rocking, hands her over when Emma clears her throat. Letting go of Regina’s hand is hardly a loss when her daughter sees her, brown eyes like Regina’s focusing on her.

“Hello, baby,” Emma greets, kissing her forehead before looking to Ruby, setting Roni against her chest comfortably. “Thanks for looking after her, Rubes.”

Ruby smiles with teeth, “Any time, Sherriff. She looks just like her sister.”

“Good,” Emma looks to Regina, who glowers at empty space at the reminder of her lost daughter. _Our Lucy,_ Emma reminds herself, thinking of the young adult who accompanied them in Neverland – who set them up and wrinkled her nose at the thought of Hook making out with her mother. “Here,” she passes over the baby to Regina, who’s glower transforms into a slightly in-awe expression, smile tugging at her cheeks.

“Emma!” a hand touches her arm and she twists to face Snow, who looks so happy to see her, Emma almost forgets about her sibling-to-be. They hug and it’s all _wrong_ , the shape of her, but Emma shuts her eyes briefly, revelling in the contact.

“Mom, it’s good to have you back.”

“You too, sweetheart,” she says, before it’s David’s turn. Emma lets herself have this, enjoying the press of his hand against the back of her head.

“Emma,” he breathes, before he steps back, looking at her like she’s the sun. “It’s good to see you. We have so much to talk about.”

“Yeah, I know,” Emma glances awkwardly at her mother. “So, have you seen Henry yet? Does he remember?”

“He came over, earlier,” David confides, “we had a dose of memory potion that we gave him, in his cocoa. Actually, he should be here, somewhere.”

“But he isn’t,” Snow interjects, looking around with a frown on her face. “He was supposed to be getting a milkshake.”

“You _lost_ my son?” Regina questions, before the door to the diner opens, admitting not only Henry, but a tall, unfamiliar blonde woman dressed in what Emma recognises as Regina’s clothes – her black pencil skirt, her grey shirt and even her jacket and heels.

“Mom!” Henry grins, speeding over to slam into Regina, who shifts Roni into one arm so she can entrap Henry with the other. “You broke it, you had True Love’s kiss!”

“Yes, we did,” Regina admits, voice low as she looks over the woman Henry had been accompanied by. “Mal. I didn’t realise you were up and about.”

‘Mal’ smiles thinly. “Yes, well, your son is quite the little sorcerer in the making. He brought me back to life with a blood sacrifice.”

“He _what_ now?” Emma questions, alarmed. “Who are you, lady?”

“Emma, this is my friend, Mal – otherwise known as Maleficent,” Regina introduces them steadily.

Emma’s eyes widen.

“You mean, like, under-the-library Maleficent?”

Maleficent’s smile widens as she meets eyes with Emma, irises flashing green. “You were the one with the sword.”

“Uh…maybe. Yeah. Sorry about…that,” Emma cringes at her own apology. “Do you remember dying?”

“Yes, but it’s happened before, so do not fear. I get to visit old friends in the Underworlds when I’m vanquished,” Maleficent brushes it all off, as if _dying_ isn’t usually permanent. “I’ve come to understand you’re facing off against some form of powerful sorceress.”

“Not just any sorceress,” a new voice enters the conversation and Emma looks to see an older woman approaching, her brown skin stark against her pale cream shirt. “Maleficent.”

Maleficent’s expression lightens exponentially. “ _Aloisia!_ My friend, I didn’t know you were here – you were banished to some pesky micro-realm, the last time I heard from you.”

Aloisia bows her head delicately. “The Eastern Witch was clever. With the help of our Good West and the Evil Queen, we released ourselves.”

“Oh, is she here?” Maleficent scans the crowd, “I can almost _taste_ her magic.”

Regina abruptly clears her throat. “Mal, Cody- _Colette_ , she isn’t here, no matter what you sense.”

“But she _is,_ Regina…” Maleficent’s gaze locks on someone – the woman Ruby had been flirting with, the day before, who raises an eyebrow at them.

“Dorothy,” Regina calls and Emma almost chokes, Henry’s neck stretching as he tries to see past her. Dorothy – assumedly _Dorothy Gale_ – slips over, a familiar Asian woman on her tail. “Dorothy, Mulan-” Emma waves at the other woman, at that, happy to see her again “-this is Maleficent, an old friend of mine. Mal, Henry, Emma, meet Dorothy Gale, Good Witch of the West and Mulan, a member of my honour guard.”

“Honour guard?” Emma questions, as Mulan gives her own small wave. “Who else was on your honour guard?”

“Mulan was the first, along with Ruby and then Baelfire, though he was more Lucy’s than anything else,” Regina describes shortly, before Mulan speaks, stopping her from continuing.

“Where _is_ the princess?” Mulan asks hesitantly.

“Zelena took her, obviously,” Dorothy states and…Emma had not expected to hear as much repressed anger in her voice as she did. Neither Mulan nor Regina blinked an eye, so the Saviour assumed it’s normal. “Baelfire was the last to have her – I watched them disappear into the Curse cloud myself.”

“He refused to come,” Granny states from behind the bar. “Got me to call everyone and left. He and Belle are supposedly in trouble, shouldn’t hear what we’re talking about.”

“Aye,” Hook agrees and it seems, now, they’re the centre of attention. It's more than just a reunion - it's the beginning of a council meeting, to make a game plan. Emma’s mother has sat down, David at her shoulder and they’re the only ones who have to twist to see him, looking anxious as he taps his hook against the table, Tinkerbell sitting beside him, equally as nervous.

“Zelena has our son,” the fairy in turn states, causing Emma to raise an eyebrow. “He’s a merman- merboy. He’s her captive. She did something to us, shielded us slightly from the Curse – the antidote we gave Henry was from her. She needed Emma to come to New York, so she can assure she won’t be a bother.”

“Too late for that,” Emma mutters. “So, what? Is her plan foiled? Who is she, really? What does she want?”

“That,” Regina says in a heavy, tired voice, as if ready to tell her it all, “is a long story.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, a pre-finale ish thing, here. Some explanation; some skippity-skip bc honestly, I hated the 'sidequests'/how long it took to get the mystery solved in canon as to what Zelena needed for her rituals; and Emma x Bug feels!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm back!
> 
> My excuses: my laptop can't be moved from my desk right now & I went home for a week; also, I cut my index finger when I got back in a way that didn't let me type a lot yet DID let my play xbox - I have a new xbox one with assassins creed origins and let me tell you this, it is hella good and I'm already 9% finished the game, with three days of solid playing.)

_ The Enchanted Forest – Two Months Ago _

“…it didn’t work,” Snow looks down from where she’d been staring at the ceiling, the portal having disappeared. “Are you upset?”

“Mother didn’t want to speak to me,” Regina states, letting go of Snow and Robin’s hands, feeling overly-bitter. “Of course she didn’t.”

“Don’t lose hope, Regina,” Robin comforts her. “There are other ways to find out Zelena’s motivations. Has she visited you again in your chambers?”

“Not since Mulan nearly beheaded her,” Regina mutters, remembering the incident from three months before with a small amount of pride, when Aurora and Phillip were revealed as spies and summarily turned into flying monkeys. Though the most loyal of the Black Guard have since returned to her service, a personal guard had never been necessary – those she _did_ trust had been companions to Prince Henry and were still disgusted at his blessing to be sacrificed. She hasn’t seen them since they made up that quiet little motorcycle gang on the edge of Storybrooke.

Mulan was different – Red was different, as well. Together, they protected her, yet also commanded the Grey Guard, which was an amalgam of Regina’s old Black Guard and Snow’s Pale Knights. They were both her defenders and her generals. That they were her friends as well, now, spoke wonders of her temperament, according to Miguel Alvarez, her Black Commander, one of the only dozen guards of her father to return to her service.

“It’s getting late,” Snow says. “You should go see Lucy, to make you feel better, perhaps.”

“I agree – children provide comforts that sometimes, adults cannot,” Robin says, standing and offering Regina his hand, lion tattoo easily visible on his forearm. “Your Majesty?”

* * *

The small figure in her doorway was familiar, yet unwarranted at this time of night. Regina sits up in bed, Roland walking forwards, strangely stiff in his nightgown.

“What are you doing here, Ro?” she chastises quietly. “Did you want to see Lucy?”

“Lucy,” he repeats quietly, causing Regina to frown. Getting out of bed – shivering at the coldness of the floor – Regina goes over to him, lifting him up into her arms. Unlike usual, he doesn’t curl into her, fingers tangling in her hair and it disturbs her.

“Did you have a nightmare? Where is your father? And where is Little John, for that matter?” _And why did Red let you in without accompanying you?_ Each question was important for a different reason, but as Roland reaches for her face, in the moonlight she sees his eyes – which are a different colour from usual, glowing silver.

Regina stills.

Roland tilts his head back, chin rising in a horribly familiar fashion that looks out of place when he does it.

“Regina. You’ve disappointed me. The archer, really?”

The Queen flinches at the cold tone, dripping with disappointment. Her grip on Roland’s body only increases, however, not knowing what to do – nor how to protect him from this vile invasion.

“Mother,” she greets, scared. “What have you done?”

“You were the one to invite me,” she says, using Roland’s voice. “I heard you had a daughter. Lucy. A plebeian name.”

“Her name is Luciana,” Regina replies, horrified to find that she’s shaking, that her words are stuck in her throat. “Lucy is a nickname – and Robin is not her father.”

“Yet, you are so eager to invite his son into your chambers,” Cora says, implying she doesn’t believe her.

“As you may have noticed, he’s also my soulmate. What did you do to Red?”

“Who’s that?”

“My guard,” Regina says in a frosty tone. “Did you kill her?”

“Oh, no. The werewolf will live. You surround yourself with uncultured people, Regina. Where did my ambitions for you go?”

“What did you do to Zelena?” Regina questions in turn, not quite expecting Cora to grab her wrists with Roland’s tiny hands, her mother’s magic flaring and scalding her skin. She drops to her knees, staggered by the power, but she defends against it – until she sees a flash of vision, memory.

“Let me show you,” Cora whispers in Roland’s tiny voice and Regina lets her.

The first thing she sees is a man – _a gardener,_ her mother whispers hatefully – who kisses her mother and another man, this one who she recognises. Fear, hatred and surprise slip through her, slashing and interrupting the false sensations that soak Cora’s memory. _Leopold_ , Regina thinks, shivering, holding Roland tight. Then appears a woman of whom Regina has only ever seen portraits of, who birthed Snow White herself – Queen Eva.

 _At my expense,_ Cora thinks, before revealing how far, exactly, the rivalry of their families goes back. Cora’s pregnancy surprises Regina, not because she _was_ pregnant, but because she kept Zelena, birthed and loved her. That she would then turn around and leave her in the woods to die horrifies her.

 _A necessary cruelty,_ Cora thinks to her, sharing _. You never would have been born otherwise. I have been watching her recently, since she made your acquaintance. Prince Charming’s courage has been taken, in the form of a talisman, the hilt of his sword – Zelena is collecting items able to power a spell, a time travel spell._

 _Time travel is…_ Regina trails off, thinking of Lucy and deciding to share with her mother, pushing the memories right back at her. From her emotions, Cora seems unimpressed by her daughter.

 _Zelena has the straw of Rumplestiltskin to represent the mind,_ she continues, completely ignoring how Regina included the discovery of her true parentage. _Love and innocence remain._

 _Do you even care to approach the subject of my lineage?_ Regina snaps at her.

 _It was never within your best interests to know,_ she says. That is when Regina purposefully comes back to herself, hating her mother, wrists pained more than ever. She looks to see magic settling in her skin under Roland’s fingers, to both her and Cora’s alarm.

“What did you do to me?”

“I don’t know,” Cora replies, before the magic settles – looking more like ink than anything else. “Magic marks, oh, I am sorry my girl. Such tattoos mottle your beauty.” She removes her hands – Roland’s hands – before giving out a boyish cry of pain. Regina catches her hands, Roland’s nightshirt sleeves slipping upwards to reveal the near-identical marks, vines like bracelets around his wrists, peppered with golden lions standing rampant where Regina has the flowers of the White Kingdom.

“I will never forgive this, no matter what you have told me,” Regina hisses. “Leave Roland’s body, return to your afterlife, Mother.”

“Gladly,” Cora states, voice pained, before her tall, blue ghost falls backwards and upwards out of Roland, who slumps in Regina’s arms. Regina holds him to her tight as she stares at her mother, who is younger than Regina can ever remember seeing her. They exchange no more words, before a portal appears above her and Cora flies up into it, disappearing forever.

Regina clutches at the young boy in her arms, turning her attention to him completely.

“Wake up, Ro, please wake up,” she whispers, before Red stumbles through her doorway.

“Regina? What happened?”

Still cradling the boy, Regina stands. “My mother happened. Guard the princess. I go to seek out Robin Hood.”

* * *

_ Storybrooke – Now _

“What happened?” Emma questions, disturbed.

Maleficent hums. “A connection forged between mother and child – doubly so, considering Regina’s status and young Roland’s age. A fault of Cora’s, for not remembering.”

“Can it be reversed?” Robin himself asks, having arrived with a squad of Merry Men halfway through story-time, Roland and the famous Little John absent. Emma was a little disappointed, actually, though hearing that Maid Marian was dead muted her enthusiasm.

“It can be muted,” Maleficent replies, flexing her wrists. “Though, I would not try it until he has reached majority. The side-effects could be…damaging. The best course would be to remain apart or at least teach Roland how to control what magic of Regina’s he can access.”

“He can access it all,” Regina states, grumbling slightly, worried for Roland’s safety, if not her own. He could drain her – kill her by absorbing her magic, subsequently killing himself, as well.

“No safeguards. A true accident,” Maleficent states. They mull on that for a moment, before Henry takes out a book from his bag and a pencil, drawing out a compass.

“She’s from Oz, right? So the spell needs North, South, East and West,” he states, looking to Dorothy and Aloisia. “What symbols go where?”

“East is courage,” Aloisia offers. “This sword hilt…”

David winces. “I drank dream-root tea. I was terrified of having a child during yet another skirmish against the dark.” Snow reaches up to take his hand, which he squeezes. “I and the lady Rapunzel both found our courage, eventually.”

“It is a shame that your talisman has been taken,” Aloisia says in a mournful voice. “Possessing and wielding it during battle would have shone a greater fate upon your future.”

Henry writes _sword hilt/courage_ to the East. “And the golden straw?”

“The mind,” Maleficent informs. “North, if I remember correctly.”

Aloisia smiles at her briefly. “You do.”

“Right. So, love and- what was it again?” Emma glances at Regina.

“Innocence,” she fills in.

“Love is that of the South,” Aloisia says. “Innocence is of the West,” she reaches for Dorothy’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “We thought Zelena to be the West, for innocence gained is as powerful as innocence born. Her envy only reappeared, however, when Dorothy arrived from Kansas.”

“I’m hardly innocent,” Dorothy mutters.

“Nevertheless,” Aloisia squeezes her shoulder again.

Henry, meanwhile, scribbles these things down. “What could she use for love and innocence?”

“Lucy,” Regina answers. “She’s a child born of True Love. Zelena didn’t know, at least she probably didn’t, not until we broke the spell on everyone’s memories. She was always talking about taking Snow’s child.”

Snow places a hand on her burgeoning stomach, frowning. “So, she only needs a symbol of love?”

“She could get that from anywhere,” Regina moves to sit on a bar stool, arms tired from holding Roni so long. She places her in the nearby carrier as she speaks. “For all we know, she already has one.”

Emma recalls something obvious. “What about that cup Gold and Belle have? The chipped one. It’s a symbol, right?”

“Rumplestiltskin and Belle would need to share True Love, for that to work.” Regina purses her lips, “and to be fair, they haven’t exactly proven it by breaking a Curse.”

“Lucy could be used for both,” Emma then tentatively offers.

“No,” the many sorceresses in the room agree as one. Maleficent tips her head at Emma.

“It’s a ritual as much as it’s a spell. If four symbols are needed, then there need to be four physical items. Perhaps, if she used your twin children _both-_ ”

“We’d never let that happen,” Emma snaps, interrupting, before Regina reaches over to drag her onto a bar stool, glaring at her in a way that clearly says _calm down_.

“Sometimes,” Maleficent’s expression darkens, looking to her parents, “there’s nothing you can do to save your children.”

“…we’re on your side, on that one,” Emma feels the need to say at the reminder of how- of how _Lily_ , of _all people_ , is connected to her fairytale past. “Hook almost killed them already for it.”

“Why would he? And who is he, in any case?” Maleficent looks away from the squirming royals, Hook himself clearing his throat. The dragon glances over at him, pausing. “Now, that is quite remarkable. What method did you use, to prevent your death?”

“Neverland,” Hook replies, a dark edge to his voice. Maleficent tilts her head.

“I see.”

* * *

There is a unanimous decision that their next move is to face Zelena head-on, to invade her little farmhouse and see if they can find Lucy and Liam, the merboy. However, before they leave, Regina clears her throat and looks to Robin.

“May I abscond with your car, now?”

“His car?” Emma raises an eyebrow. Robin copies her expression, but takes out a familiar set of keys from his pocket. “Oh my god,” Emma jumps to her feet, reaching out, snatching them out of his hands with a wide smile. “The Bug! It’s here? My _car!_ ”

_My **home**._

“Your welcome?” Robin smiles amusedly, before Emma looks to Regina.

“You knew he had it? You asked him already?”

Regina shrugs awkwardly. “We knew you were coming back.”

“I love you,” Emma says, before going over to her again, hands framing her face as she kisses her thoroughly, very happy to have back her ‘yellow death-trap’ as Regina calls it. When they part, she praises her genuinely, “You’re amazing.”

Regina bites her lip, cheeks flushed. “It was foresight.”

“Still amazing,” Emma grins.

“It’s something else to see it in person,” she hears her mother say to her father in amusement. “Even after the PDA on the town line.”

“PDA?” Regina snorts, looking to her old nemesis. “That was _hardly_ major PDA. You and Charming have done much more than _that_ in front of people, if I remember correctly.”

Emma grimaces slightly at the thought of her parents’ PDA, the memory of walking in on them under the covers with Henry at her side coming to mind. One of her hands itching to twine with Regina’s, Emma stuffs it in her pocket instead. _We’re still new to this, no matter the…complicated stuff. Tone it down, Swan._

They make their plans. Snow has to convinced to stay behind with David and the other witch from Oz, Aloisia, because _you’re heavily pregnant, Snow_. Emma has to appreciate just how well Regina can pacify her mothers complaints. Maleficent, at hearing Aloisia and Henry would be staying, elected to also, while Hook and Tink followed Emma and Regina. Similarly, Ruby and Mulan refused to let Regina out of their sights.

“We wouldn’t be a very good Guard if we did,” Ruby winks at Emma, before Mulan nods, seemingly quite serious about fulfilling her duty.

“I wish I had my sword,” she mutters, looking down at her own round-necked t-shirt with a complicated expression.

Emma peers at the logo on the black cotton, recognising Storybrooke’s martial arts studio’s insignia, _Paradigm Shift_ written in looping calligraphy under a larger Mandarin translation set in an apple tree, all in a mixed gradient of grey. _It’s actually a really cool logo_.

Mulan continues speaking, “and back-up. Where is Commander Alvarez?”

“Most likely with the rest of the Grey Guard,” Regina states, tugging her leather gloves on. Emma has a brief moment of Gay before she gets herself back on track.

“Grey Guard?”

Regina glances at her, tilting her head. “Snow’s Pale Knights and my Black Guard, joined together as one. They take orders from the both of us. Commander Alvarez is…a friend.”

“You have friends?” Emma questions jokingly, cringing a moment later at how Regina visibly closes up. “Sorry. That was in bad taste.”

“Yes, it was,” Regina says in a clipped voice. “I _do_ have friends. You’ll find that many are in this room.”

“Are we friends?” Maleficent muses amusedly, almost to herself.

“I would hope so,” the Evil Queen murmurs. “We’ve done worse things to each other than trapping the other in their natural form for twenty-eight years.”

Maleficent tips her head. “Indeed.”

“We’re friends as well- I mean, minimally,” Dorothy says, sounding frank and slightly vulnerable. It surprises Emma how quick Regina is to step around her to link her arms with the other womans’.

“You have an attitude that another me would have killed you for, but Dorothy Gale, I do believe I like you,” Regina smirks, Emma raising an eyebrow at Dorothy’s answering roll of her eyes. “Yes, we’re friends. See, Emma, I’m not alone.”

“I never said you were alone,” Emma replies, feeling bad. “Seriously, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that at all. Ever.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. Thank-you for apologising, however,” Regina accepts, arm still linked with Dorothy’s. She looks to the Kansas-born girl, reaching up to pull a strange wooden necklace from under the collar of her pale blue hoodie – advertising yet another organisation in Storybrooke, this time Harbour Theatre Productions. “I see you still have it.”

Dorothy reaches up to tuck it back into her hoodie. “I do.”

“Is that-” Maleficent begins to question, before she cuts herself off, but Emma frowns.

“Is it what?”

“…nothing,” the dragon stares at Dorothy though, with a certain furore. “You were not detailed when explaining your ‘missing year’. Is this how the Well Guardians were released?”

 _I am not up for this cryptic-talk right now,_ Emma thinks, a little piqued at Regina’s short nod.

“Can we leave the mumbo-jumbo secret stuff for later, please?”

“Because you asked so politely,” Regina demurs, before looking to Robin. “The Grey Guard live in a set of buildings with their own shared courtyard. Have you been around Storybrooke enough to know where that is?”

Robin frowns slightly, before one of his companions speaks cautiously, “Is that the group with the… _motorcycles?_ ” He says the word _motorcycles_ like he’s never said it before and Emma measures it comes from fake memories, if she had to guess. He probably has no idea what a motorcycle is, not really.

“That’s them,” Regina confirms. “According to my new Cursed memories, they’re now called the Greyhounds, collectively, rather than-”

“Oh my god,” Emma interrupts, making the connection in her head, “Storybrooke has a _motorcycle gang?_ ”

“There’s always been a motorcycle gang,” Henry says, looking at her funny. “They were the Black Knights before. They took me home once, when I got lost.”

“I remember,” Regina shakes her head, shuddering. “You were five and thought you could walk home from Benny’s house on your own.”

“I went the wrong way,” Henry shrugs at Emma’s raised eyebrow, looking awkward. “Are we going to face Zelena, now?”

“You aren’t,” Emma replies. “You’re staying here. You’ve been told that already.”

“But I-”

“Henry Daniel Mills,” Regina starts in a dangerous tone, “if your next words are ‘I want’, you will be grounded for the next month. We are going to face a powerful sorceress who has no compulsions on using children as hostages.”

Henry grumbles, but he doesn’t say anything else, turning morose. Emma looks away as he takes out his phone, probably texting Aisha about how his life sucks. _He’s going to miss his friends, if we come back to Storybrooke,_ Emma thinks. _And it’s not like they can visit him. He can’t tell them the truth, either. That’s not fair._

Sneaking a look at her wife – _not my wife_ – Emma thinks of her life in New York and she tries to imagine Regina and Lucy in it, too.

“Why do we need this…Grey Guard?” Emma forces the words out of her mouth.

“Zelena isn’t alone,” Regina replies, hand rising to the red scar on her face. “Those flying monkeys are vicious.”

“Did they do that to you?” Emma questions, catching Regina off-guard. However, after a moment to compose herself, she shakes her head. “Really?”

“Really,” Ruby confirms, an ugly expression sweeping over her face, eyes flashing yellow.

“The Grey Guard are trained, in any case,” Regina continues. “They, along with the Merry Men, will enable us to capture rather than kill the flying pests – they’re people, under all that fur. Certainly, some of them we know.”

“Aurora and Phillip are out there,” Mulan says, sounding a little lost.

“Really?” Emma questions. “They’re flying monkeys?”

“Unfortunately,” Regina nods, before sighing. “Aurora was also pregnant, the last time I checked. If she’s had her baby, I cringe to think of what has happened to them.”

“Eugh,” Emma makes a face. “Ditto.”

“So, will my Men and I fetch this Grey Guard and meet you at the farmhouse?” Robin interjects, standing up from his seat by the window.

“If you would,” Regina nods, smiling in a strained manner as she looked to Granny. “Would you mind watching over Henry and Veronique?”

“They’ll be safe with me, Your Majesty,” Granny states, lifting up her crossbow from behind the bar. Emma nods in satisfaction, checking on her daughter then, taking her small hand.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon. Your mom and I are just going to go get your sister back. You just stay here and hang out with your big brother, ‘kay? Love you. Bye-bye, baby.” Resting her hand on Roni’s warm chest for a moment, Emma breathes in deeply, settling the idea of _Lucy and Roni, together_ in her chest. She feels a hand on her elbow and glances back to see Regina, eyes dark with the same kind of anger bubbling away inside herself.

“Let’s get her back.”

“Let’s go,” Emma agrees.


	21. Chapter 21

The cellar is too cold for a baby. There’s straw and he’s wearing a shirt and waistcoat – the latter, he wears because Dark One or not, he still gets cold. However, his shirt? No, he uses that as an extra blanket for the baby, his granddaughter.

 _My niece,_ Cody is a whisper in his head, her mind squashed up against his. Their thoughts get jumbled and he can’t sort through them all – it’s worse for Cody, because she can’t control the body they’re sharing right now and at the same time, she has as much presence as he does, because her body is inside his own.

“Lucy, Lucy, Princess, baby,” he mumbles, holding her close, rocking her as she cries. The other prisoner – the boy, a boy who didn’t know his own name before the Curse on their memories was broken, _Liam Jones II_ – is curled up at his feet on the straw. Thankfully, he at least has a full set of clothes on – he doesn’t need Rumplestiltskin’s shirt to make him warmer, despite how he might _want_ it.

 _Creature of the sea,_ Cody thinks, _merboy, boy-child, the sea is colder than the surface…_

“Yes, yes, not colder, not warmer, fine,” Rumplestiltskin agrees. “Liam-boy, warm.”

Liam on the ground looks up at the sound of his name, “Dark One?”

“Liam, merboy, the sea is colder than the surface,” Rumplestiltskin repeats Cody’s thoughts, which is far, far easier than forcing his own words out.

“…yes, Dark One,” Liam’s hands creep into his socks, though. “I’m still cold, though. I like being warm. Heat is strange and wonderful.”

“Wonderful warmth, merboy, the sea is colder than the surface – no heat for merboy. Baby, Lucy, warmth and heat. No blankets.”

Liam seems so young, but he is a merman. He’ll be a child for a hundred years before he’s fully grown – it makes Rumplestiltskin glad that his adoptive mother is a fairy, even if his father is human. Tinkerbell will live long enough to see Liam to adulthood and beyond, as near-immortals that fairies are. _It will break her heart,_ he thinks.

 _Her heart isn’t broken yet, though,_ Cody replies, before the cellar doors open abruptly, a shaft of sunlight bursting through. Rumplestiltskin wonders for a moment at the drama of it all – why would Zelena burst in?

Then boots sneak into view, followed by crouched legs and a mechanical crossbow. Rumplestiltskin finds himself looking at Robin Hood and he stops moving, remembering how Baelfire fulfilled their deal – took the favour owed to him and used it.

 _No,_ Rumplestiltskin thinks in despair, _I could have used it. I could have used it to get Lucy away!_

“What in the gods’ names…” Robin says, before Liam sits up, crawling forwards and leaning up against the bars. “ _Gods,_ a child!” He rushes down into the cellar, crossbow aiming at the darkened parts of the cellar before he finds the light-switch, tugging the cord. All those inside the cage close their eyes at the sudden brightness, before Lucy starts to cry, Rumplestiltskin curling her into his chest.

“ _Lucy?_ ” he hears Regina’s voice, so full of pain, Cody creating joyous thoughts in his head. _She’s here – sister – big sister – rescue – niece, safe – safe, safe, safe._ Robin calls an affirmative as Liam starts crying, calling out for his parents, who rush down, Regina and Emma on their tail. Robin opens the cage door with ease – it’s enchanted to open from the outside, so Liam can’t escape when Zelena wants to pop in to see him, him as in Rumplestiltskin. _Why would Zelena want to see a merboy, after all? There’s no reason to at all unless his parents need some levering._

Said merboy, of course, goes sailing into Hook’s arms, who sweeps him up and brings him out of the cage, off to the side to where Tinkerbell stands – the only parent of Liam’s that Rumplestiltskin thinks has the actual capacity to truly parent a merman child – so the Queen and the Saviour can come rushing down, only for Regina to stumble, stopping just inside the door.

“…Rumple? Gold?”

“Lucy,” he says, looking up at her. _Daughter – sister_ , Cody insists _– **daughter** ,_ he thinks. “Lucy. Lucy, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy-”

The expression on her face twists and she comes to kneel in front of him, hand reaching up to his head. Rumplestiltskin reaches, grabbing it, bringing it to Lucy, her child – his granddaughter – before he hands her over. Regina gladly receives her, eyes going glassy as she shushes her crying, crooning. Rumplestiltskin doesn’t do anything but watch, keeping his mouth closed.

It doesn’t last long.

“Look after. Witch. Zelena. Orders. Look after,” he says, angry. He glares at nothing, still looking at those of his family not imprisoned by his former apprentice. “Too full, Rumplebumple and Cody-dee too much, too _full._ ” He grabs her hand again, changing his mind, pressing it up against his forehead. “Too full, too _full,_ Gina!”

“What happened to him?” the Saviour questions.

“I don’t know,” Regina states, even as Rumplestiltskin tries to make her understand, repeating himself again and again. _Too full, too full, too full!_ “Too full of what, Papa?”

“Minds!” he claims, “Rumplebumple and Cody-dee! Too full! Pressing, pressing, minds and minds!”

Regina’s expression changes and _she’s got it._ He can see it in her face and he relaxes as much as he can, releasing her hand and staring at her. She stands and he keeps watching her, smiling slightly when the Saviour takes their daughter, hypnotised at the sight of her. Only when he hears Regina say _get her back to Roni_ does Rumplestiltskin’s smile slip, mouth opening slightly in awe.

Roni. He knows that name.

_I’m older! I finally have the proof, too! We knew that one of us came from around this time and the other from another point, next week, but we never knew who – Roni, Veronique Swan. I’m the older one! I knew it!_

“Baby,” he says, “baby times _two._ Lucy, Roni, Lucy, Roni-”

“Yes,” Regina interrupts him smoothly, before Emma Swan goes up out of the cellar with his granddaughter, “baby times two. Twins, of a sort. Lucy and Roni, both here, in Storybrooke.” She’s smooth, now, all elegance and poise. _Danger,_ he thinks as Cody turns calculating, both their minds turning in the same direction. _What is she going to do?_

“You should go,” Regina says to Hook and Tinkerbell, “Take your son and hide out in Granny’s with the others. Robin, stay. I might need you to carry someone in a moment.”

“No,” Rumple says immediately, glaring at her properly, now, but not moving as she stays standing in front of him. Zelena told him to stay in the cage – and Cody is straining against him now, their thoughts barely touching. “She’ll die.”

“No, she won’t,” Regina states. “Cody is part of the Witch Coven of Oz. The Witch of the East – a Well Guardian, as Maleficent calls them. Immortality is part of the package deal to joining.”

 _Told you I’d be fine,_ Cody says, before she _pushes_ , making him groan and fall off his stool, writhing as she pushes and pushes and-

* * *

Cody and Rumple part from each other in a flash, banging up against either side of the cage. Regina goes to help Cody up when she pinpoints her, hauling her to her feet. Robin swears in surprise, before coming in to help her.

Cody, however, is not done, it seems. Regina watches with fascination as a magical sheen – dark blue and yet silver at the same time – drifts off her skin over to where Rumple is groaning, sitting up against the bars. He watches it for a bare moment before his eyes settle on his daughter yet-to-be-born. There’s a mixed kind of pain and confusion there and Regina wonders if he knew Cody was immortal – he’d be the one to know these things and they’d obviously shared a body for the last however-long.

 _Who knows how long, considering how much Cody travels through time,_ Regina thinks. _Though, I only knew because I was told by Aloisia. Zelena can’t be killed unless her magic is absorbed by another Coven member – hopefully, in this case, Dorothy._

Her sister steadily slumps against her as the life-force transfers to Rumplestiltskin. Regina would have trouble keeping her up on her own, but Robin is there to help her, eventually just swinging the sorceress up into his arms. When it finally peters out, Cody is – thankfully – still breathing and Rumplestiltskin looks bonelessly relieved at the prospect.

“I’m fine,” Cody murmurs as she begins to nod off, yawning adorably before beginning to snore beside Robin’s ear. The archer spares her a worried glance before clearing his throat.

“I will take her up to the surface – take her to a healer or doctor, perhaps.”

“Thank-you,” Regina offers, placing her hand on his arm. Robin simply gives her a nod before leaving, making sure not to bash Cody’s limbs against the beams as he exits the storm-cellar. When he’s out of sight, Regina turns back to Rumple. “Does Zelena have your dagger or was Cody the only reason you’ve been trapped here?”

“The witch has my dagger, aye,” Rumple states, before he stands up, obviously shaky. Regina eyes his bare skin under the waistcoat, recalling there’d been something black wrapped around Lucy and her blanket. _I can feel the cold through my coat – he must have wrapped her in his shirt._ Heartfelt thanks blooms warm in her chest at the thought. “She also has Belle and Bae’s hearts.”

The warmth drains away. “She _what?_ ”

“She has their hearts,” Rumplestiltskin says, “and now you have removed the only thing that made her hesitant to use me. Cody and Zelena know each other. Zelena didn’t want me to risk her, by sending me out to do her bidding – not that I was in any state for it. She took Baelfire’s heart from his chest.” He falters then and there’s a searing, obvious gap where more words have to be said.

“And Belle’s?” Regina prompts.

His face twists. “She made me do it. I took it from her. My hand reached inside Belle’s chest and then I damn well _gave_ it to her, Regina. My Belle.” He puts a hand over his eyes, obviously deeply ashamed and full of regret – guilt.

Unease stirs in Regina’s gut, remember the last hour before Snow cast the Curse, using Charming’s heart. “I gave Lucy to him – to Baelfire. I gave her to him to keep safe while Snow and I cast the Dark Curse. That’s how Zelena got her. Baelfire gave Lucy to Zelena.”

“I’m sorry, Regina,” he says, pulling a bag of what look to be baby supplies from behind his stool. He gives them to her, for which she is grateful – Storybrooke, the last time she checked, wasn’t outfitted with a Baby’s R Us. “At the very least, you have her back, now. Zelena did no harm to the child – after a day, she gave the girl to me to care for. I did my best.”

“Thank-you,” Regina offers sincerely. He clasps his hands behind his back, straightening as he shakes his head.

“No. It was nothing I would not have done willingly. You need to leave, now. She will return, eventually. Her goal is to take Snow White’s child from her – to fulfil what part of your revenge you did not complete.” Regina’s nose wrinkles. She feels irked at the thought. Rumplestiltskin nods shortly at the expression. “That’s why. Now: go.”

“We’ll free you,” she says, preparing to leave. “I’ll get your dagger back for you.”

“You won’t keep it?” he questions, a smile twisting onto his face.

Regina smirks, sassing him. “Maybe I’ll give it to Belle – she can keep you in check for us all.” A small chuckle escapes him, before they exchange a silent set of nods, Regina leaving without another word – shutting the cage door behind her.

* * *

“I don’t want either of you separated ever again,” Emma states when Regina comes out from the storm-cellar, heading in a beeline for her daughter once she’s shut the doors and caught her breath. Regina, taking her child with not much heed for her partner, barely acknowledges her. “Regina, I think you should go back to Granny’s and stay with the kids.”

“I agree,” a new voice adds, Regina looking to them sharply, seemingly processing what Emma had just said. Scowling, she looks between them and Emma chances a glance back at the new man – someone who she suspects is this _Commander_ Mulan had talked of beforehand.

His most prominent feature, that draws Emma’s eye first, is the scaly burn in the shape of a star on his right cheek, high up enough that the highest point goes through his eye, which is hidden by a black patch. Hair shorn, he still sports an ashy blond beard and to Emma’s eyes, he’s surprisingly young – maybe even younger than Regina and shorter, too. He wears black motorcyclist leathers, a black cowl that hides most of his neck and a skullcap that has a decidedly- _not_ Star of David symbol woven onto it, his leather jacket decorated with patches endorsing local businesses.

 _That’s a thing, now,_ Emma thinks at yet another reminder that Storybrooke is a working town now – not just some Cursed set of buildings hidden in the forest.

“Your Majesty, Princess Emma has the better idea,” he argues, voice wheezy, his hand rising to bring an inhaler to his mouth. Once again, Emma is vaguely shocked by the variety of new things she’s been seeing as of late in Storybrooke. Once he’s used his inhaler, he tucks it in a bag on his belt, standing up straighter.

“You shouldn’t be agreeing with her, Miguel,” Regina argues, “You follow _my_ orders.”

“We have yet to receive orders other than to meet you here at this farmhouse, that I have never seen before in all my years in Storybrooke,” Miguel – _Commander Alvarez_ , Emma remembers – shakes his head as he looks over at the new building, a crackling of speech in Spanish coming from a black walkie-talkie on his belt. “The house is clear – the perimeter has yet to be set up, however.”

“You’re cheeky,” Emma notes with some amusement, “finding a way round Regina’s words.”

Commander Alvarez glances at her, “Listen, we are on the same side, you and I. Protecting the Queen is our priority, _sí?_ ”

“ _Sí_ ,” Emma replies, knowing enough high-school Spanish to know that means _yes_.

“She needs to be pushed into making decisions,” Commander Alvarez states. “Or rather, pushed into making the _right_ decisions.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Regina says distractedly, focusing on the crying Lucy in her arms. Emma takes a step closer, hand coming up to rest under her elbow in a show of support as she listens to Alvarez speak.

“Sometimes, that means being explicit in carrying out her orders or taking them the vaguest way possible. I’ve learnt over time how to get around her words – I’ve had the audacity to be related to her, as well, so I can get away with it,” Alvarez grins all of a sudden, a dimple appearing on his unscarred cheek – Emma wonders how he got the scar at the same time she thinks, _what the fuck?_

“Related?” She questions.

“Aye!” Hook waves his metal appendage in agreement, calling from where he stands by Ruby’s car – borrowed for the occasion. “They’re related, Swan! Cousins, if I’m not mistaken, of some sort at least! All Royals are – but if you don’t mind, I’d like to return my son to safety as soon as possible.”

“Right,” Emma agrees, taking stock of the situation. Merry Men and – supposedly – this Grey Guard of Regina’s is making a perimeter and the farmhouse is clear. Hook can’t drive and neither can Tinkerbell – they’re waiting with Ruby’s car because they need someone to ferry them away. Regina and Lucy are likewise stranded, because Emma isn’t planning on leaving everyone without a leader while they search for this bitch of a Wicked Witch. Cody is gone – taken away somewhere by Merry Men.

Ergo: “Regina, drive Hook, Tinkerbell and their kid to Granny’s, would you? Get Lucy to safety?”

“Well done, Princess,” Alvarez compliments and Emma takes it, even if she’s a bit weirded out by the _princess_ comment. Regina glares at Emma, but the sheriff doesn’t back down.

“Please, Regina – who better to protect Henry and the girls?” Emma puts it on a bit thick, then, “You’re gonna leave Henry and Roni with my parents?”

Regina makes a face that reminds Emma of fake times – fake memories of a fake Emma tricking her fake wife into doing the laundry again and again so she doesn’t have to.

“You’re playing dirty, Swan,” she says, voice warning her from doing it again very soon again, at least. But, she does however go over to Ruby’s car, accepting the car keys as she poofs a car-seat for Lucy into existence between Mulan and Hook with Liam in his lap in the backseat, Tinkerbell in the front.

“We’ll follow your lead,” Alvarez says to her as they leave, half a dozen motorcyclists at their back. Emma looks to him. “But not forever. Only until the Queen is not facing this dangerous an enemy. A squad will be guarding her and her family.”

“I saw her tails,” Emma states, before looking to Robin Hood. “How many of yours are there still about?”

“Three dozen including women and children, though we used to count to over a hundred,” the archer admits. “Most have been taken as collateral by the Wicked Witch.”

“Great – and the Guard?” Emma questions Alvarez.

“We numbered sixty-two in the Enchanted Forest, including General Mulan and General Red,” the Commander says, “though in recent months the Merry Men _have_ made up a significant branch of our Order. In Storybrooke – as adults or otherwise capable fighters – we number somewhere close to fifty. A dozen in pairs are scouring the nearby forest, a single dozen follow the Queen and another half dozen guard Granny’s Diner. We are stretched thin, Princess.”

“First off,” Emma starts, recognising the direness of the situation but needing to get this sorted out, “I’m Sheriff Swan or ‘the Saviour’ here, not _Princess_. In the Enchanted Forest, if I ever go back there ever again, we can talk of Royal titles then. Second, we don’t need eighteen people guarding Regina and the kids. Get some people on a loop around the most-used roads, on the lookout for shit out of the ordinary and to keep the peace.”

Alvarez seems a little irked, but nods. “I see that wisdom,” he says, before bringing his walkie-talkie up, talking in quick, heavily accented Spanish. He waits a few moments, before getting a crackly reply. He replies shortly before putting it back to his belt. “When they reach the Diner, the dozen following Her Majesty will patrol the township.”

“Good,” Emma nods, before looking to Robin. “Have you got a system like the Guard do, to communicate?”

Robin warily reaching for his own belt, where a more orange and strangely more-high tech walkie-talkie sits. “We do, yes. I am ashamed to say I am slightly fearful in using it, however – these new memories from Snow White’s Curse weigh heavily within me.”

“Sorry, I know how that feels,” Emma starts, grimacing, “but you’ve got no time right now to be freaking out. As Regina said earlier, Zelena isn’t above taking kid hostages. You’ve got a son, I know. Think of him. Who else in your group has those walkie-talkies?”

“Everyone,” Robin says. “Even Roland. It’s if they get lost, hiking about these woods on their own.”

“Use them,” Emma keeps his eyes, trying to impress upon the seriousness of that. “Your people see anything – see any of these flying monkeys? They set off the alarm, find out where they’re living, report if anyone else gets taken – capture where possible, without losing anyone else.” Looking between Robin and Alvarez now, she takes a brief moment to revel in this, the _responsibility_ she’s wielding in the name of Storybrooke.

“There’s a veterinarian in town that should have sedatives enough to put a horse unconscious, seeing as we _do_ have a stables, this time,” Alvarez adds. “I can arrange for the location to be plundered appropriately.”

“See if any of Robin’s Men are closer, I want you both collaborating here,” Emma orders.

“What will you be doing?” Robin questions.

Emma looks back at the storm cellar, where Gold held captive – where their relative ace in the hole is locked in a cage. She waves them off, going over to the doors, flinging them open.

“I’m getting leverage.”

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr: [wixley-kryptonese](http://wixley-kryptonese.tumblr.com)


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